The Color Blue
by Incredibly Cold
Summary: Jean Kirschtein hated school. He didn't expect anything different this year at a new school, but that all changes when he meets a small, nervous boy named Armin. (AU Jearmin, rated T for dark themes & character death. Triggers are noted at the beginning of chapters they apply to)
1. The Strange Boy

Jean Kirschtein hated school. He had never stayed in one place for very long, because his dad was poor and with only the one meager income, it was difficult for them to keep a house for even a single year. Constantly being forced to switch schools had taken a lot of the fun out of the whole experience for him. He tried not to talk to people or really make friends, because by now he knew from experience that it only made leaving harder. Of course, the downside was that isolating himself made him feel left out. Sure, he could deal with it, but it wasn't exactly enjoyable.

Naturally when he walked through the front doors he didn't expect anything different. He would do as he normally did, keep his head down, sit in the back of the rooms when he could. He wouldn't get involved in any clubs, or sports. Any activities at all were out for him. Just keeping to himself and working as hard as he could so that he could get good grades, and maybe even a scholarship. He was going to college no matter what, he knew that much. He would rather die than end up like his dad, so poor that he couldn't keep a house.

He walked to his first class, dragging his feet as he went. His first teacher was Mrs. Clark. Mrs. Clark was a young woman, maybe in her early thirties who taught chemistry. She was very pretty, with medium brown skin, dark hair that fell only about to her shoulders, and beautiful greenish hazel eyes. Chemistry was Jean's worst subject, but he figured if he really worked at it he could get at least a B. He took his customary seat in the back row off toward the right corner. It didn't take long for the rest of the room to fill out, leaving exactly five seats including the one on his left. Well, at least there were five. Right as he bell rang another kid ran in, tripping over their own feet in their haste to find a seat. He felt more than a little annoyed when they chose to sit next to him, for some reason not taking any of the far closer and more convenient spots up front. Whatever, they (he couldn't really tell if they were a boy or a girl) didn't exactly look like they would be a bother. More likely just a mild annoyance and distraction.

"Did I miss anything?" The person next to him asked. The question caught him off guard.

"Wait, what? The bell just rang, of course you didn't miss anything." It came out harsher than he had intended, but he was irritated about having his attempt not to talk to anyone foiled this early in the day.

The blonde bowed their head in embarrassment. "Of course not, I'm sorry."

He almost let out an audible groan. emHe had gotten the shy kid? Well, it did mean that choosing the back made sense, and at least he probably wouldn't end up having to talk to him much. And besides, in his experience a lot of the shy kids were pretty smart, so he might be able to get some help when he needed it. The thought made him smile, maybe a B wouldn't be so hard to get after all. "Good morning! Did everyone have a good summer?" Mrs. Clark shouted. Jean nearly jumped out of his seat, surprised by how loud she was. There were a few murmurs, but everyone seemed too tired to make any effort to respond. By the time she was done introducing herself Jean had completely tuned out. He had been through plenty of this first day of school stuff to know the rules. Teacher tells more about themselves than anybody cares about and then explains the class rules, blah blah blah, he really didn't need to pay attention until they started doing name games, and even then he only needed to introduce himself, he could ignore everyone else. It wasn't like he planned to be buddies with any of them in the first place

* * *

Jean didn't even realize that he had dozed off until he felt someone poke his side. He rubbed his eyes, sitting back up slowly, so he wouldn't draw attention. He hoped that the teacher hadn't noticed, but by the looks of things the only one who had was the person next to him, and Jean couldn't help but feel a little grateful for the way they had prodded him just behind the table so it wasn't noticeable. "What did I miss?" He figured it must have been something otherwise they would have let him sleep. He also couldn't help but think that it was basically the exact same question he had been asked before.

"Not much. We're supposed to introduce ourselves to our table partners." They seemed to be avoiding eye contact, keeping their blue eyes focused on a spot just past Jean's ear. "I'll go first. My name is Armin Arlert and I'm a sophomore. I don't play any sports, but that was one of the things she said to mention, so if you do… I don't have any siblings, but I do have a cat named Eren…" They trailed off, seeming not to be able to think of anything they thought was worth sharing. "Oh, and I'm not a girl." At this his face turned beet red and he looked down at his feet. "Sorry, your turn."

Oh god, this kid must have some serious social issues. Two apologies in one class period and he hadn't even done anything wrong yet. Was he apologizing for not being a girl or for sharing so much about himself? And why was he blushing so much?/em He decided to start without thinking first, so the awkward silence would be shorter. "Okay, my name is Jean Kirschtein, sophomore also. I'm new this year and I don't play sports. Only child, no pets." He thought about what else might be interesting. "Well science classes aren't my best subjects, but I've kept straight A's in everything else since fourth grade and I plan on getting a scholarship so I can get a good job and be able to afford a house so I won't have to move ever again." He smiled smugly. "Unless I want to move, and then I'll be able to afford a nice house." He felt pretty proud of himself until he looked back to Armin, and he felt his pride shrink./

Armin was well groomed, and his clothes were clearly new, and probably pretty expensive going by the looks of them. He was a rich kid, who probably got the newest iPhone as soon as it came out, and ate a nice home cooked meal every night and got to go shopping for a new pair of sneakers even when he didn't need them. emWhy did he have to say all that to him? Now the knew he was poor, and he would look down on him because of it./em He wished that he at least had the decency to stop looking at him with so much pity, he didn't need pity. What he needed was a college degree, and that look wasn't going to help him get one.

As the moments passed he felt himself growing angry. "And I won't get anyone's pity then either." He added icily, his amber eyes narrowing. He almost felt bad when Armin shrunk back, his eyes back to their previous view of the floor. He supposed that he might have been a little harsh, but it wasn't like he had been out of line. The kid looked at him like some kind of injured puppy, and Jean wasn't one to just sit there while his pride was trampled. emWhatever. It's not like we were going to be friends anyway./em Jean said to himself, resting his forehead on his arms, which were folded on the table./

He didn't fall back asleep this time, because the teacher then asked if everyone finished. There were a few grunts and nods, so she continued. "Now we'll go around the class and introduce our partners. I hope all of you were listening!" He felt his stomach drop. emOh god, now this Armin kid was going to destroy his reputation before he even got one. He would be the poor kid. People would pay attention and notice the way everything he wore was faded. The way his pants were too short, and his shirts were too tight on him. Maybe he would have to move halfway through the semester like last year and not have to deal with it for very long./em It wasn't as if he wanted that, but if it happened he wouldn't be too upset.

First up was Marco Bodt, who played soccer and had a little sister named Katelyn that he was very fond of. Then Reiner Braun, the football player whose stepsister Annie was skilled in karate, a fact everyone seemed to be aware of because she had taken people down more than once because they had touched her without permission. Beside him was Bertholdt Fubar, an only child who was apparently the track star of the school, though his sweaty nervous demeanor wouldn't have suggested it. He stopped listening after they passed Connie, a boy whose last name he didn't catch because he was surprised by the girly first name./

Finally everyone had had been introduced except he and Armin. The other boy stood, speaking out in a voice so soft that he was sure the people up front couldn't hear. "This is Jean Kirschtein, he has no siblings and isn't on any sports teams because he's new this year" Jean didn't bother to correct him. He must not have understood what he meant exactly. Either way, it didn't really matter if they thought he was athletic or not. "He was the wrestling champion at his school last year, but then he got a bad injury, so he might not be able to play anymore." emWhat?/em The other part may have been a misunderstanding, but this was completely made up. He hadn't said anything remotely similar to that. He looked around the classroom to see that there were a few nods of approval throughout the room, and it dawned on him that Armin wasn't trying to do anything to hurt their first impression of him. He was once again grateful to the smaller boy for making him seem cooler than he really was. Maybe he should make up for being rude earlier by doing the same thing. A guy like him could probably use whatever talking up he could get. Sure, it would be harder since these kids already knew him, but he could think of something.

"That's Armin Arlert, he's an only child too, but he has a cat." His mind raced, trying to think of something cool, which a cat definitely wasn't. "He makes really good salsa." It was the first thing he could think of, and immediately he wanted to slap himself. He glanced around the room and noticed a few strange looks, but he just shrugged and sat back down, cursing his lack of imagination.

Armin looked at him with wide eyes. "I'm not good at making salsa." It was only a whisper, but he sounded so serious that Jean had to hold back a laugh.

"Well I've never been on a wrestling team, and I haven't been injured so badly that I couldn't play sports, so I guess we're even." He raised an eyebrow. "Plus, making salsa is easy enough, if you really feel the need to know how then I can show you."

"Thanks…." There was a brief silence between them. "Why did you say that though?"

"You made me sound cooler than I really was and I wanted to do the same for you." It took a moment to realize how that sounded. "Not that you aren't cool, but you didn't tell me anything cool. Either way, it didn't work. Sorry about that."

Armin's blue eyes crinkle up as he giggled. "That's okay. Maybe I can teach you improv." Giggling? What the hell, had he not gotten that a guy shouldn't giggle like a little girl? Especially him, he was already girly enough. What was improv again?/em He was pretty sure it had something to do with acting. So Armin was one of those acting kids. He couldn't say that it was hard to believe. He had already said he didn't do sports, and he didn't seem the type to sit around and not do anything. He probably would have guessed orchestra, merely because he was so timid, but acting fit too.

"Alright then, I'll bring the salsa ingredients and show you how to do that. We can kill two birds with one stone." He joked. Armin giggled again, and Jean had to admit it was pretty cute. He liked that face on the other boy, it suited him much better than the painfully uncomfortable look he was wearing before. Then again, almost anything was better than that look. It was so pitiful. He was about to open his mouth to speak again when the bell rang. He must have been asleep longer than he thought, it didn't seem like that had taken nearly long enough. He would have continued anyway, but Armin was already gathering his pencils up and heading out the door. Instead he got up, pulling out his schedule to see that his next class was world history.

"Hey there. It was Jean, right?" A voice came from beside him. He looked up to see none other than Marco Bodt smiling at him.

"Uhh… Yeah, and you're Marco?"

"Yeah, good job. I was wondering if you needed any help finding your next class. Mine is on the other side of the building, so I pass everything anyway." He was slightly taken aback by the friendly gesture, it wasn't something that people did at many of the schools he had been to, but decided to just go along with it. It didn't hurt to know who was friendly.

"World history with Mr. Appenfeller." He told the other boy.

"Really? That's where I'm going too! That works out perfect." He seemed genuinely happy about it, and Jean couldn't help but like him a little. Usually if someone offered to show him around they were really weird, and even if he didn't know much about this guy, he seemed normal enough. He was just a really friendly person.

* * *

History was boring. During the whole class Jean was slightly irritated by the abnormal height of his teacher who was only two inches short of a full foot taller than his own 5' 8" which he considered pretty tall. It didn't really matter, he was still growing, but no matter what he was sure he would be considerably shorter than this Mr. Appenfeller. This guy didn't even play a name game, so he left not knowing anyone but Marco and a girl he thought might have been called Sasha by the girl who sat beside her.

Math, english, creative writing, and drawing all went by in a blur of names. Annie, Mikasa, Christa, Ymir, Thomas Wagner, whose last name he only bothered to remember because he sat next to another Tom whose last name he didn't even hear, Mina, Hannah, Franz, Samuel, Nack, Millius, and Dazz. Finally it was time for his last class of the day. Acting.

He got to class with no time to spare. Sadly, that meant that there was only one seat left, and he plopped down , looking around to see if there was anyone he knew. There was Christa, Connie, and Marco. Other faces he didn't recognize, and one he couldn't even see because she had her hood up and was facing the other way, giggling with a group of girls who he thought might have been talking about boys. It was as good a guess as any with the way they kept breaking out in squeals and laughter.

"No hoods."

The voice came from the drama teacher, who he was sure hadn't been sitting there behind his desk a minute ago. Well he couldn't have been anywhere else. The only thing behind him was a closet, and he somehow doubted he had been hiding in there. Even if he had, surely he would have made a more obvious entrance. He turned to see that the hooded girl was not in fact a girl at all, but was Armin from his first hour.

"Aw, do we actually have to follow the rules in here this year?" Connie whined, interrupting his train of thought. He couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. Maybe Mr. Brown was really strict?

"Of course not. We never have before, just gotta pretend for the first week or so." One of the people he didn't know piped up, kicking off their sneakers and laying down between the desks. Maybe not, that would just be asking for a detention if he were. Unless they were just a troublemaker and didn't care. Marco tossed an empty water bottle and it hit their stomach, bouncing off and landing on the ground with a clatter.

"Which means that you have to keep your shoes on and sit up like the rest of us while we're still in the classroom." He said teasingly.

"Fair enough, but I'm not putting my shoes on." The student made a show of getting up and sitting in the chair, tossing the bottle back at Marco. "And no throwing trash, you barbarian."/

Acting kids. They were always fun to be around, as long as you didn't take them too seriously.

"That's enough everyone, I need to take roll if we want to move on to something more fun." That got everyone to shut up really fast, and soon they were all sitting quietly at their desks, leaving Jean with the question of what that could possibly be that they liked so much. He had taken plenty of acting classes before, but each one was different. Some were boring some were fun, some had strict teachers and some had teachers that didn't seem to care what their students did at all. Really the something fun could be anything. Mr. Brown was still looking around the class, not calling names out, but apparently just by knowing who each of them were. Well, almost.

"Jean?" He called. He said it wrong, it was supposed to be similar to John, but instead the teacher said it like the jeans that you would wear. Oh well, it was only a matter of time before someone did it. He was actually surprised that this was the first time

"Here." He called, raising a hand. He didn't bother correcting him, it wasn't the best thing to do the first time you spoke to someone. He didn't want to give the person in charge of his grades any reason to dislike him. The teacher stood up, clapping his hands together. "Okay, that's all. If everyone would put up their chairs and head to the stage." Within seconds there was the clatter of chairs being put on top of desks, and everyone scrambled to the door at the back of the classroom. Jean followed quietly, not sure where they were going. He had thought this was a closet or something, not an actual door. Once through he was even more confused. The ceiling was high up, and half of the room had a second floor. There was wood and sawdust and paint and all kind of sharp tools, as well as furniture like couches and rocking chairs, scattered around the room with no visible order. It was a workshop of some sort, he knew, but why was it behind the acting room? He tore his attention away from the jumble of stuff, and quickly followed Mina through another door, and found himself in what must have been the backstage area.

Through the curtains he found the most disappointing auditorium he had even laid eyes on. It wasn't even an auditorium. There were bleachers on the other side of the room, currently folded back against the wall. He had passed through the room earlier, as it connected two hallways. It was really more of a commons area than anything else, and he couldn't help but ask the still barefoot student that now sat on top of a podium if there was another auditorium where they performed plays.

"What kind of high-budget school has a real auditorium?" They then began laughing at some kind of inside joke they had just said, and he walked away. Most everyone was off the stage, with a few shutting the doors so that people wouldn't cross through. He followed their lead and hopped offstage, only to stand there, unsure of what to do. He wasn't alone long when A very short girl with brown hair came up to him. She overweight, but very pretty.

"So, you're the new kid, huh? I'm Lexi -"/

"STOP BOMBARDING HIM, YOU WHORE!" Came a screech from across the room, and soon she had been knocked over by a rather tall girl with curly black hair. They were both laughing, so he assumed that this wasn't unusual for them, and that Lexi didn't mind being called a whore, or at least not when it was this girl who said it. He wasn't sure what to do, so he just stood there and hoped Mr. Brown would tell them what they were supposed to do soon.

"It was like the teacher could read his mind. "Everyone circle up." He called from the center of the room. Jean beat most of the class over, eager to get away from the girls rolling around. Before long everyone was in a circle, Armin at his right and Lexi to his left, a fact that made him a little uncomfortable. "Today we're going to get to know each other. In a class like acting you need to feel comfortable with your classmates and not let embarrassment get in the way. Everyone think of one embarrassing thing about themselves that you don't usually tell people, and we'll go around the circle and introduce ourselves and share our one story."

He smiled at them all. "I'll start. I'm Mr. Brown, and I have played drag queens in several different plays, as well as just plain being a girl in a few." There was some laughter, but for the most part everyone was respectful.

Next was the barefoot student. "I'm Nanaba and sometimes I'll watch all the Harry Potter movies in one night and then make food from the books or movies and eat it with my cat, Mrs. Norris." So a major Potterhead, that was good to know.

"I'm Connie Springer and my mother named me after her childhood dog, who was a girl." Well then, he wasn't the only one who thought that was a girly name. It made him feel a little better.

Next was the girl who had tackled Lexi. "I'm Madison Elmer and I'm adopted." Was that supposed to be embarrassing? Maybe he was missing something because a couple of students erupted into laughter.

After her was Lexi. "I'm Lexi Evans and last year I fell off stage during a choir concert and brought Madison down with me." The two looked at each other and laughed./

Now it was his turn. "Uh, I'm Jean Kirschtein and…" he was at a loss of things to say. "Uh… This morning I tried to make up something cool about Armin and I said he makes good salsa." There was an outbreak of laughter from a few of his classmates and someone shouted about needing to work on improv. He felt his face reddening and hoped no one could see.

"I'm Armin and this summer a grand total of twelve guys hit on me because they thought I was a girl." Although he sounded a little boastful about it, Jean wasn't sure wether to laugh or feel bad for him. No wonder he included that when he was introducing himself this morning. He himself hadn't been any exception, just a few minutes ago he had thought he was a girl when he had his hood up.

He didn't dwell on it any longer when they moved on. "I'm Hanji and last year I messed up the entire marching band formation because I saw a cat and got distracted." Said the bespectacled girl in a ponytail beside the blonde.

"I'm Christa and one time I ate a whole pizza by myself." Jean was surprised her stomach could contain so much with how small she was.

"I'm Marco Bodt and this summer I faked an injury so I could stay home from a soccer tournament and see the midnight premier of Star Trek." That one surprised him too, he didn't have him pegged as a Trekkie.

Jean checked the clock on the wall behind him. There was still an hour to go. "Alright then, now that we know everyone's name let's play a little game of popcorn." Mr. Brown told them loudly. He had never played popcorn before, and he hoped it was something fun.

* * *

As it turned out popcorn was another name game. They switched around their places and then one person had to go to the middle and name everyone, and by the end of it his new nickname was Jean Valjean, who was apparently from a musical called Les Miserables that he had somehow completely missed being advertised as a movie last year. Lexi had suggested that he come to her house and watch it, an offer he had declined as nicely as he could. He was starting to see what Madison was talking about. She was a huge flirt to say the least.

When the bell finally rang he ran out of the building as fast as he could, nearly knocking over little Christa in his haste. He wasn't sure why he left so fast. He had to walk home anyway, because he couldn't afford a car and he hated the bus. It wasn't a short walk, but he preferred it to the crowded space in one of the vehicles. No matter, he had to wait for all the buses to leave anyway, they were basically blind spots on wheels and he didn't trust their drivers not to kill him. It took all of thirty minutes for them to be gone, and he started out his trek walking fast.

The already overcast sky had grown darker during the day, and the clouds looked ready to burst by now. He was making good time until he had to stop at a crosswalk and ended up waiting for a good ten minutes to be able to go, and then all at once it was pouring. There wasn't any warning and within seconds his worn clothes were completely soaked through, leaving him shivering as the icy droplets ran down his shirt, sharply contrasting to the previously warm day. He sighed in exasperation. He was only halfway home and now all his books were going to get soaked through because he had nothing to keep them dry

He was looking for somewhere that might provide a little shelter until it lightened up, when a car that had been stopped by the red light with him rolled down their window. "Jean? Is that you?" They asked

Jean recognized the voice, but couldn't quite place it, and in this downpour he couldn't see much past his bangs. "Yeah?"

"You're going to ruin all your books, get in here!" They shouted, and he didn't hesitate to do so. He couldn't afford to replace them, so that was his top priority. Plus, they could only be from school. He hadn't been here long enough to have really met anyone else. He climbed into the passengers seat, not bothering to try to dry off. In this weather it wouldn't help at all. He did hope he didn't ruin their car, but it was beyond his control. "What were you doing walking out there in the rain?" He turned to see none other than the ridiculously girly little Armin Arlert, with concern written all over his face.

"Walking home." He told him, shrugging. He really didn't want Armin to know that he didn't have a car. He may know that he didn't have a lot of money, but he didn't know just how poor he really was.

"Why are you walking? Can't you drive or ride the bus?" Jean could tell that the other boy wasn't trying to be invasive, he was just worried. Not that there was anything to worry about, in a town like this he was sure there wasn't much crime, it wasn't like New York or something. But still, the rain must have been a concern, which was still stupid because it wasn't as if he could control the weather and he hadn't left the school when it was like this.

"I don't like the bus." He stated flatly.

"Then why don't you drive?"

"Jean narrowed his eyes, frowning at the other boy. "I'm pretty sure it's illegal for either of us to be driving actually, since you can't get a drivers license until you're eighteen, but I'm not badgering you about your criminal activity."

"Uh... You can get a license at seventeen. I only have a restricted license because I'm sixteen, but I can only drive to school or work." Armin regarded him with a strange expression. "Where did you live before you moved here anyway?"

The light turned green and he put a foot on the gas pedal, moving forward at a ridiculous and almost annoyingly safe distance from the car in front of him. He then put on his blinker and merged onto the highway, once again following probably every safety precaution he had ever been taught and cleared his throat. "Sorry, I'm being too nosy. If you want you can choose a radio station."

Jean had forgotten to answer the question, and now that shy little bastard was trying to make him more comfortable. Ugh this kid would be the death of him, he kept making him feel bad. "You're shy, aren't you?" He watched the blonde who had curled forward a bit, trying to make himself smaller so he might be less noticeable.

"I uhh... Yeah." He allowed himself a quick glance to the side, to check Jean's expression before he continued. "Sorry." His face was already beet red, which made it hard not to notice just how very blue his eyes were. It reminded Jean of the ocean, like you see in those pictures of beaches and probably the clearest water in the world that didn't really look that clear at all, because blue wasn't clear.

"You know that you don't have to say sorry about everything, right? It's not a crime to be shy. Hell, I usually don't talk to anyone." He shrugged. "The only reason I've been talking to you is because you're so damn nervous that if you thought I was mad at you, you might go into cardiac arrest."

"I'm so-" Armin started, then thought better of it and shut his mouth. "So how was your first day? I hope everyone was nice enough to you."

"They were all really nice actually. It's kind of weird." Jean answered, looking around. "Hey, not to make you more uncomfortable than you already are, but where are we going? I mean you don't exactly know where I live or anything."

"Armin nearly stopped right there in the middle of the road, and his passenger could practically feel the wave of overwhelming anxiety came over him. "Oh god I'm so sorry, where do you live? I promise I can get you there right away, I really didn't mean to take you home I just wasn't thinking about it. I'm so sorry Jean."

"You know what, maybe it would be best if you just dropped me off. It seems like you're afraid of me or something and I really don't want to get you in a car crash. Besides, I'm not sure how comfortable I'd be with you seeing my house." The last bit was completely true, but he had mainly said it to make the other boy more comfortable.

"Oh I'm not scared I promise, I can take you home." Armin assured him.

"First of all, you are totally scared. You look scared, you sound scared, and you're just acting very scared in general. That doest offend me or anything if that's what you're worried about, but the point is you are scared to death of making me mad at you or whatever and I promise I'm not, but I also don't want to kill either of us in a car crash. Second of all I really don't want you to see my house. You would look down on me if I saw it, I know you would."

"Jean, I am not going to just leave you out in the rain. You'll get sick and then I'll be even more nervous around you." Armin's voice was slightly less shaky than before.

Well at least the kid had admitted to being nervous around him. "Fine, take me to your house and I can wait on the porch or something until it clears up."

Armin took his eyes off the road for a second to look at him. "If you come to my house you'll be coming inside. My mom is home and there's no way she'll let you stay out there, especially when you're all wet."

Jean didn't dare say that would make him uncomfortable for fear of getting Armin all worked up again. As it was he had only just loosened up a little. "Okay, then I'll wait inside for the rain to let up.

"Jean?"

"Yeah?" He had thought that the conversation was over, but maybe not.

"I think you should know, my mom can be a little overwhelming. I don't know what she'll do exactly, but just be prepared." Jean spent the rest of the drive in silence, wondering what that could possibly mean.

* * *

**So what do you think? There will be more fluff and character development later, but for now they've just met. Next chapter will involve Jean at Armin's house and probably go into Armin's past a little, because I'm sure some of you are wondering why Eren has only been mentioned as a cat and not someone who actually goes to the school. All will be explained I promise, as will Armin's anxiety issues with mainly just Jean.**


	2. An Old Friend

Armin's house was exactly like Jean would have expected it to be. Two stories tall, freshly painted, with a lovely, well kept garden, and a perfect Hallmark worthy porch. It matched his flawless appearance. His perfect blue eyes, and flawless skin, as well as his perfectly groomed blonde hair.

They pulled into the garage, where there was space for another car, and Jean got out quickly. It was too late to help it much, but if it was at all possible then Jean would prefer not to completely destroy the seats of the car. Of course that made Armin nervous all over again and the smaller boy got out of the car, flustered and apologizing profusely.

"Hey, calm down. I'm trying not to destroy your seats, I'm not upset." Jean sighed in exasperation. Why was he always doing that? "You don't have to freak out on me. Let's just go inside, preferably somewhere that I won't ruin anything."

Armin looked down at his feet in embarrassment and took a moment to compose himself. "Oh trust me, with my mother you aren't going to get the chance. Just a quick little bet here. I think that within ten minutes of being inside, she's going to give you dry clothes and possibly a shower." There was a hint of a smile in his voice, though it was still nervous.

It was good to see Armin making some statement without trembling. Plus, any form of humor must mean that he was at least a little more comfortable around him. "You've gotta go one way or another, otherwise it isn't really a bet. So which is it, just the clothes or clothes and a shower?"

Armin deliberated for a minute. "If she has any say in it, you're definitely getting a shower, but even if you say no she'll be giving you clothes. You'll end up taking a shower though because as you are about to see my mother can be very persuasive." He decided, opening the door so they could enter the house together. "Oh, and by persuasive I mean bombarding with kindness. She really is nice, but she'll practically maul you."

No sooner had the words left his lips than a woman came into the room. She was a little taller than Armin, but not very much at all, and they looked so much alike it was almost funny. They had the same button nose, astonishingly blue eyes, and straight blonde hair. Really they could have been the same person, Armin the younger version and his mother the older. Her hair was longer than his, and her eyebrows thinner, two more noticeable differences.

_In fact_, he thought, _the longer he looked at them, the more differences he could see._ Before long the two were so obviously two different people and he felt rather stupid about even thinking they looked like the same person. Armin was quite clearly a boy and his mother was a woman.

A woman who was now asking Jean questions in rapid succession. What was his name? Was he okay? Was he one of Armin's friends? Luckily her son answered most of them for him, apparently used to this kind of thing and able to actually process the questions before she asked new ones. It was very helpful.

* * *

And then, before he knew what was happening Jean was being rushed to the bathroom and given a nice fluffy towel and clothes to change into. "I'm sorry, none of my husband's clothes looked like they would fit you, so this will have to do until I can finish drying your clothes. No one in this house is particularly tall." Armin's mother, whose name was apparently Claire, told him.

Armin had been right. New clothes and a shower before he could even argue. Claire was nice, he had to agree on that point at least. Bombarding him with kindness. He couldn't have thought of a better fitting description if his life depended on it. He might as well get down to business though. After all, he didn't want to take up the bathroom any longer than he had to, someone might have to actually use it. Jean turned on the water and let it warm up for a minute. He liked his showers hot to begin with and now with the freezing cold, wet clothes clinging to his body, hot water sounded particularly wonderful.

The bathroom was beautiful of course, as if it could be anything less in this house. Light green walls and a shower curtain with white wainscoting, cabinets, sink, bathtub, and toilet. Brown and grey mottled tiles finished it all up. All together it was a very clean and well kept looking bathroom. Like one he might have dreamed of having when he was old enough to get a house.

Once the water was to his liking he stripped off his clothes. His faded t-shirt came off easily enough, but the hard part was his jeans. Wet jeans were never exactly easy to get off, especially when they were a little small like Jean's were. He once again silently cursed his lack of money. After the way too difficult task of getting them off, he was finally able to step into the hot water.

It was a bit of a shock at first, just because of the contrasting temperatures of the steaming water and his dead cold skin, but it felt nice. Of course, Jean wasn't dirty and he didn't want to use their soap, so after a few minutes of just letting himself get warmed up he stepped out of the shower and dried off. The towel was softer than the ones he had at home, and it was pretty obvious that they were new. No old towels were this fuzzy. In fact he had to pluck little bits of fluff of where they stuck to his skin.

Jean hadn't had the chance to look at the clothes that Claire had gotten out for him, and when he unfolded them he was surprised to see that there was just a grey T-shirt that said 'rage and serenity' and a pair of pajama pants. And not just any pajama pants, Deadpool ones. Jean had always liked Deadpool, ever since he had heard of him. Sure, he was a mercenary and he didn't always fight for the good side, but he did what he had to to get what he wanted, and besides, he was funny. He had been a sort of role model for him ever since he was a kid. Not the part where he killed people and fought for bad guys because they would pay him, but because he would do anything for his goal. Of course, their goals ware actually pretty similar, both of them wanted money. Jean wanted it so that he could have a comfortable life, though with Deadpool it was for no real definable reason.

He put them on and left the bathroom, carrying his wet clothes a little away from his body so they wouldn't soak through into the clothes he was wearing right now. When he got to the living room he was accosted by Claire once again. She took his wet clothes and left with them, going around a corner to where he assumed the dryer must be.

Now that he was alone and undisturbed he was able to look around at the house. The walls were a pale shade of beige and the baseboards and door frames were painted white. There was a very soft looking couch that matched the walls and carpeting almost exactly. There were a few dark grey throw pillows that matched the rug under the couch, and black vases with white roses sat on either side of the TV set. All in all it looked like something out of a magazine and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Armin hadn't done anything special to deserve this, no more than Jean had to get his own leaky decrepit shack of a house. How come _he_ couldn't have this?

His thoughts were interrupted by a little gasp from behind him and he turned to see Armin looking at him with an expression that he couldn't quite place. He figured it must have something to do with the fact that he wasn't wearing real pants. He knew some people were really weird about that kind of thing, and they had just met, so it was possible that he thought they weren't well acquainted enough to see each other in pajamas. It was hard to say, he was kind of a wacky kid. He tried to fix the situation by apologizing. "Hey man, I'm sorry. Your mom said these are all you had that might fit me. I'll put my real pants back on as soon as your mom gives them back to me."

Armin just blinked and tilted his head back, fixing his eyes on some invisible point on the ceiling. He seemed a little puzzled, but it was hard to tell. He was acting awfully weird. "Oh, that's not an issue. It's okay, I didn't even notice really."

Of course, that left Jean wondering what the problem was exactly. Whatever that face had meant, it looked like it was something unpleasant. He didn't think it would be appropriate to ask, so instead he focused on the small movement at the far end of the room, where he was able to see a cat making its way out from behind a coffee table. It had green eyes and a solid dark brown coat. He had never seen a cat like that before, and his curiosity must have shown on his face because Armin sat down on the couch and said "Havana brown."

"What?"

"The cat. It's a Havana brown. His name is Eren, I told you about him during chemistry. He's usually friendly, so he shouldn't bother you." Armin's voice had gone strangely flat, but at least he had been able to talk some more without any apologies. Maybe he was just more comfortable at his own house, or maybe it was something else, but it was a bit of an improvement. As ridiculous as it might seem, he felt almost guilty when the other boy apologized. He knew he was making him uncomfortable and he couldn't help but feel bad about it.

"Well, he's a pretty cat. I've never seen one like him." He said conversationally.

"You probably wouldn't have, they aren't your everyday house cat." Armin replied. His lifeless tone was getting a little bit unsettling at this point, and though Jean would like to just change the subject more than anything, he wasn't sure if it would make it better or worse.

"When did you get him?"

"Last year. Around the same time that..." He trailed off uncertainly. "Well you don't need the whole story, it would just bore you. He's about about seven months old." He stood back up slowly. "Do you want something to eat? It's going to be a while before this rain stops."  
Jean opened his mouth to tell him that he was fine without food, when his stomach growled so loudly that it was almost comical. Well, at least comical enough to get Armin out of his emotional stupor.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said with a pleasant grin. "Well, come with me. We have plenty of things to choose from. Mom likes to keep enough food around to feed a small army. She wants there to be plenty just in case I have friends over. I don't have nearly enough of those to eat all of it, but at least that means lots of options."

Jean noticed that he was rambling again, which could only mean that he was less uncomfortable than he had been earlier. It could really go either way. When he had been uncomfortable his sentences were clipped and short, as courteous as possible without actually having to talk much. He wondered again if it was just because he was in his own house, or if there was something else. Maybe Jean had done something that made himself seem less intimidating, but he couldn't think of what it could have been.

Armin opened the fridge and gestured for him to look inside. It was full of what you would expect someone like him to keep in a fridge. Fresh fruit and vegetables, along with fancy bread and deli lunch meat. There was absolutely nothing unhealthy, but at the same time there wasn't anything particularly appetizing. So when Armin wrinkled his nose and told him they had pizza rolls too if he wanted some, Jean jumped on the offer.

* * *

It was going to be a brief wait until they came out of the oven, so in the meantime Armin offered to show him around the house. There wasn't exactly anything else to do, so he decided to accept the blonde boy's offer. Of course, he knew it would be much like what he had already seen, grand and clean and perfect, but he was still curious.

First up was the dining room. In the middle was an average sized table made of some sort of dark wood. The carpet was the same as it was in the living room, and the walls were papered with a kind of wallpaper that had thin vertical stripes in alternating cream and beige. There was a small chandelier, not exactly fancy, but it added a modest touch of elegance that Jean couldn't help but notice. He had always loved cutting pictures of houses and rooms out of magazines, it gave him something to strive for when he had a job. Because of having done that, he was easily able to see how the little details in the room made it look so much better, and really couldn't not see it. He had to hand it to whoever put the place together, they knew what they were doing.

He said as much to Armin, who blushed and waved a hand, saying that it was really just something they had done to change things up a little. That left Jean astounded, because how could he possibly have done this entire house? It seemed quite the achievement for anyone, but for a sixteen year old boy it was especially impressive even to stick with it to the end of the project, and with the way he was blushing it wasn't a long shot to say he had designed most of it.

"When did you do all this?" He asked incredulously.

Armin took a step back from him, his expression suddenly guarded. "We redecorated this summer. Mom thought it would be a good experience for me."

"What exactly do your parents _do_ for a living?" He asked before he could stop himself.

Armin snorted. "What does it matter? We're on a tour of the house, not a journey through the life of Armin Arlert." As soon as he said it, he seemed to realize that he might have just been rude, and heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, it's not that I'm mad at you, it's just that you remind me of a friend."

"And you're mad at your friend?"

"No, but sometimes that's how we talked." He seemed distracted, and left the room mid sentence to lead the way to the next. The past tense didn't escape Jean's notice, but he figured that he might have just misspoken.

The room they came to next had an entire wall dominated by tall windows with white shutters. The walls were a pale grey that on a sunny day might have reflected the light to a pleasant brightness, but for now it was dim inside, so dim that the white trim nearly blended into the walls. There were two simple chairs, and a wall covered in bookshelves, but aside from that the room was empty. "This is the reading room. The library I guess, if you prefer. Although not all of our books are in here so that wouldn't exactly be an accurate term. I always wanted to have my own library though, so that's what I call it."

"Then I guess it's the library. Maybe you should make a sign or something. No better way to tell the world, is there?"

Armin grinned. "Maybe I will."

They went back to the hall, where they went into the next room. It was a deep shade of blue,with even more white trim, and this time even crown molding. In the corner there was a bed, made with a blue and yellow quilt, and an old looking white dresser that was chipped, revealing bits of yellowing paint. On top there was a plain lamp with a shade that matched the quilt, and a blue bottle glass vase filled with fake sunflowers.  
"You sure do use a lot of white." Jean observed.

"It looks better when it's sunny, everything looks really bright and clean." Armin explained, waving an arm as if to demonstrate it, though it didn't show him anything at all. "Right now it just looks dull and boring, but that's the exception, I swear."

Of course, he was probably right. He was just the kind of person who was always right about that sort of thing. About anything really. Even if he wasn't, he had a trustable face, a believable face. _It would be hard not to take his word for anything at all, even if he said that the sky was purple and made of hedgehogs._ Jean shook his head to clear it. Sometimes his mind would just wander like that, and it never failed to annoy him. _Why couldn't he just not think about people and their faces and all of that horrible stuff that made him so uncomfortable? Better yet, why couldn't there always be something going on that was entertaining enough that his mind didn't have to wander?_

Finally, after what seemed like a life long uncomfortable pause a beeping sound could be heard from in from the kitchen. Armin, jumped, and spun around as fast as he could to go to the kitchen. Jean followed him a short distance behind, his longer slower strides easily matching the distance of the other boy's short hurried ones. He stood in the doorway, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do while the blonde pulled on a pair of oven mitts (black with cherries on them, just adding to the unfair adorableness that no sixteen year old boy should possess) and pulled the pizza rolls out of the oven.

It was funny, Armin was precisely the kind of kid that he saw getting beat up at every school he had been to, but he was so unbelievably kind that it was hard to imagine why anyone would beat him up. He hadn't personally witnessed anything like that happening, but it wasn't difficult to tell. Jean knew it wasn't entirely his own fault that he was so scared of him. He was a kid who had probably been made fun of and beaten up on a regular basis for most of his life.

* * *

The pizza rolls were good, but after he had finished eating them, Jean found himself wishing that it wasn't the first day of school and that he had homework. Anything to avoid the uncomfortableness between them. At least Eren the cat seemed to like him pretty well. Every time he would purr or nuzzle into him Armin would beam at them.

"You know, he likes you pretty well. I'm glad you got to meet him, I don't get to introduce him to very many people."

"He's really friendly, especially for a cat. Not that cats aren't friendly or anything, but yeah a lot of them aren't." He responded quietly. He was at a bit of a loss for things to say at the moment. He didn't want to talk about himself, and he didn't much care what Armin had to say about himself. It wasn't that he as anything specifically against the kid, but he seemed a bit too tragic, and tragic would just make everything awkward.

"Do you have any pets?"

Jean couldn't stand it anymore."You know what? I think it's time for me to go. I know it's still raining and everything, but I just think that I've overstayed my welcome."

Armin's eyes seemed to loose some of their light, but he smiled politely all the same. "Well, I'm not going to hold you hostage here or anything if you really want to go, but you're welcome to stay however long you want to." He sounded so sincere that Jean felt the absurd urge to apologize for being rude. "My mom might be a problem though, you've already seen some of that. If you insist on leaving then she'll probably forcibly drive you home. Either way you aren't going to walk in the rain."

Claire had been in and out of the living room to see if they wanted anything about five times now. She had given Jean his now dry clothes and even asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner. Honestly it was starting to make him angry. Why did she have to take pity on him like that? It wasn't as if he needed it. He was perfectly capable of going home on his own and eating his own meals, and he refused to be thankful for their charity. He hated charity, he didn't need it and he thought it made him look like a freeloader, which he definitely wasn't.

"Maybe I'll just leave without telling her. That is a thing I can do you know, I don't have to ask permission to leave, and I don't need your any of your help." Jean snapped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that-"

"No, you know what? It doesn't matter how you meant it. We aren't friends, okay? I don't have time for friends, and even if I did, why would I choose you? So you can show off how much money you have and how you're mister perfect? Well I can see that well enough, thank you very much, so you don't need to rub it in my face." Jean continued coldly. His venting only made him feel better for a second, because now Armin was now giving him a look that made him wish he could just go back in time and never get in the car with him.

"You're only angry with me because you're jealous that I have money and you don't. And I'm not afraid to admit it, I'm angry too. I was trying to be nice to you because I like to think I'm a decent human being, but if you don't want that, then fine, go. I would give you all of this stuff if I could, but I can't so we have to live the way it is." His voice wasn't even aggressive, it was more calm than anything, and there was an edge behind it that was almost frightening out of the mouth of someone who seemed so sweet and innocent. "I think the real reason you don't have friends is that you can't make them, no one would ever like you because you're mean to them."

Jean stared at him with wide eyes. Had he really just challenged him? Coming from someone like that, who would never win in a fight, that kind of outburst was absurd. Before he even knew what he was doing, he started laughing. It was all just so absurd. Going over to someone's house the same day that he met them and then loosing his temper with them in their own living room after they had been nothing but nice, and a little tiny girly boy telling him off like that. "You've got guts, I like that. You're right, I'm jealous. It's stupid, but I am, and being rude to you isn't going to fix anything. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm sorry for being so mean." He held out his hand for a high five, but Armin grabbed his hand and shook it instead. Jean just shook his head and smiled.

"Well if we can't be friends then maybe we can just agree not to hate each other. After all, it seems like we're going to be lab partners in chemistry. We might as well get along." He was smiling too, a small shy smile that looked half forced. Why was that though? Jean had said sorry and that should have been enough, right?

He did feel an unusual amount of warmth towards the boy, and if not for the fact that it wasn't exactly a good thing because he would have to move before long, it would have been a very nice feeling. "You know, you're a really weird kid. I don't mean that in a bad way either, it's just that I've met a lot of people and none of them were quite like you."

That clearly pulled Armin up short, he just stared at Jean with an absolutely pitiful expression on his face. He just seemed confused and hurt in a way that didn't really make sense given the situation. That had been meant as a compliment, but he still kept making that face like a wounded puppy.

"I still need to get home though, my dad will get worried." That was a lie, his dad was working a double shift and wouldn't get home until much later. Hell, even when he did get back he would be way too tired to notice whether or not his son was home. "But if Claire absolutely insists then I guess I can get a ride from her." Armin started to protest, but he interrupted him. "No, you still can't take me home. My mind hasn't changed there at least, you don't get to see where I live."

If anything Armin seemed apologetic about not being welcome, it was weird how often his emotions just didn't fit with what was going on. It was like he was on some sort of separate plane of being, entirely different from the rest of the world and yet still connected.

Just as he was getting ready to mentally slap himself for getting so off track again, Claire came into the room. "Jean, are you doing okay? Do you need anything? Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" She asked, her expression of concern almost identical to the one her son had been wearing when he invited him into the car.

"Actually Mrs Arlert, I was just going to leave. I need to be getting home or my dad will worry. Thank you for everything." He tried to back out of the room as he spoke. He knew it was probably useless, but if it were at all possible to just be able to walk himself home then he would try for it.

"Oh, is Armin driving you?" Her tone was almost frighteningly kind. It was weird how awkward it felt to be worried over like this, he had never really had that before. He was an independent person who scoffed at those too weak to take care of themselves.

"No, I was going to walk" Jean told her. Before the word 'walk' was even all the way out, he could practically sense her disapproval.

She rounded on her son, opening her mouth to say something like 'you should be nicer to our guests' and before she could really get on his case he interrupted and said, "It's not his fault, I just don't want him to see my house."

Obviously that wasn't a reason that she was expecting to hear, because her face held nothing but confusion when she turned back to look at him. "Why?"

He felt his cheeks getting hot with embarrassment and quickly looked down, focusing all of his attention as a faded spot on his old beaten up converse shoes where he had dripped a drop of hand sanitizer that bleached the fabric. "I just don't. Please just let me walk."

She let out a little huff of breath and looked at him with her hands on her hips. "Well I can't just let you out in the rain to freeze, but I can take you myself and not tell Armin anything about it."

Up until this point her son had been watching with mild interest, but at that he looked at her incredulously. "You know, I am still here. I can hear everything you're saying."

She just waved a hand at him. "Oh hush, I meant that I wouldn't tell you where he lived or anything like that. It's not like we're conspiring against you or anything." She took a second to flash him a little smile. "Well, not yet at least. There'll be plenty of time for that later."

Jean had to stifle a laugh. The two of them were both so strange. How was it possible to be so kind and caring? It wasn't like they expected anything from him in return, they were just doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. And they were still capable of sarcasm too, he could appreciate that. "Well Mrs. Arlert, that sounds perfectly acceptable to me." He wasn't sure why he wasn't using her first name to her face, but even the idea of it seemed weird to him.

She was already picking up her car keys, and gave him another one of her kind smiles. "Okay let's go."

* * *

It seemed that Claire knew the city pretty well, all Jean had to do was tell her the address and they were off in what he assumed must be the right direction. Of course, he wouldn't say it to her, but it made him realize that if she had let him walk then he wouldn't even know where to start.

They just sat there in silence for a while, not exactly uncomfortable, but also not so comfortable to be relaxed. Well, maybe she was, but he sure wasn't. He decided to break the silence by asking her a question. "Armin seemed really scared of me sometimes, but other times he seemed so comfortable that it was like we had been friends for a while. Was I doing something bad or is he just like that with some people?" He knew it might be a rude question, but he was curious and it wasn't like they would see each other often. Even if they did, she seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't hold a grudge about something so small as an insensitive question.

"Armin is..." She sighed. "He's never really had a lot of friends. A lot of the other kids don't really like him because he's a little bit girly, and too smart for his own good. He doesn't like to back down on his opinions, even if it means getting beat up again. It's happened so many times. I guess he's just a little wary of people is all." Claire explained, shrugging. "I might be wrong here, but I think you remind him a little of Eren too."

Jean was dumbfounded. "I remind him of his cat?"

She looked over at him in confusion for a moment, but then seemed to realize what he meant and gave him a sad little smile. "I told him not to name that cat Eren, you know. I said that it would be confusing, and that when it died it would be harder, but he didn't listen. He's very strong willed, you know. He doesn't look it, but he is. The Eren I'm talking about was Armin's best friend. They were friends from the moment they met, it must have been in kindergarten."

Jean once again noticed the use of the past tense, but didn't say anything. "And you think I look like him?"

"Oh, heavens no. He had dark hair, it was longer than yours, and he had green eyes. His face was a little more square too, yours is sort of longer and thinner." She glanced over at him. "You are about the same size though, those clothes I gave you belonged to him. I wasn't sure how he would react, I mean we only have a few of his clothes, but you couldn't walk around without something to wear."

Jean remembered the little gasp and the odd expression from when he had gotten out of the shower and felt suddenly colder. He must have been right in thinking it was an unpleasant reaction. He was using his best friends clothes, and from where this conversation was going..."If it's not being too nosy, what happened to Eren?"

"Oh honey, it won't hurt anything if you know. He died last year, it was a car crash. Absolutely terrible. I think Armin blames himself for it, he had called him and asked if he could pick him up from one of his little debate tournaments. It was late, and I was out with Ben, that's my husband, so he was going to get a ride to Eren's house and they would spend the night. It was all really convenient, it would be so nice, but then there was the crash and poor Eren was dying in the hospital for about three days. Well, Armin and Mikasa didn't leave his side the whole time, the three of them had always been so close, but he passed away during the night while they were in the room with him. Armin hasn't really been the same since. He and Mikasa haven't spent a bit of time together afterwards, I'm pretty sure he's too guilty about the whole thing to face her, but she calls or comes over to ask me how he is from time to time. They were such great friends, it's really terrible what happened." She really did sound sad, almost on the verge of tears. It did explain a few things though, seeing him in those clothes would have been like seeing a ghost, or worse, like he was defiling Eren's memory.

"How am I like him?" He couldn't stop his curiosity, no matter how much he knew he should. He just needed to know.

"He was bullheaded and fearless, and I get the impression that you are too. He knew what he wanted in life and he wouldn't stop at anything to get it. He was rude and sarcastic sometimes too, but it wasn't in a way that was mean, and even though it sometimes came across that way, it wasn't too hard to tell that he didn't mean it." She smiled again, maybe recalling a memory. "You have the same look in your eye too, curious, angry at the world. Armin loved that boy, they would have defended each other to the death, Mikasa too. I think there are too few people like that in this world."

"Thank you Mrs. Arlert. I didn't mean to be nosy or anything, but I think I understand a little better now." He paused a minute and added "Armin seems like a really good person. I'm sure the three of them were lucky to have each other."

Claire just nodded in response, looking very calm and very sad at the same time, so Jean stared out the window for most of the rest of the ride. He was thinking about this Eren, and about everything that had happened between them today. He had seemed broken and fragile, and that wounded puppy expression easily could have come from some connection he made between him and his hold dead friend. It was horrible that something like that had to happen to someone like him. He was so lost in his own mind, that he didn't even notice that they had pulled up to his own house.

It was tiny and old, with chipping faded paint and broken windows. On the inside there was a framed kitchen, an even worse bathroom, and a single bedroom that they separated into two with a little curtain. It was horrible by itself, but after leaving Armin's house he was especially self conscious about it.

If Claire judged him for it though, she didn't indicate it. Instead she looked at him very seriously. "Jean, I know this may be asking a lot, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I would really appreciate it if you would try to look out for Armin. I'm not saying you need to jump into a fight for him or anything, but he just feels so alone now and he could use a friend. Even if you're just nice to him when you see him."

He couldn't exactly turn her down, so he told her that he would and went inside, wondering why this responsibility had to be given to him, and why he had to move so often, because if it weren't for that then he wouldn't even have to hesitate.

* * *

**Yes, I killed off Eren. Sorry about that, but it's important to the character development and storyline and it's also AU so anything can happen really. This is one of the darker themes/character deaths that I mentioned in the summary. Thanks for reading and I really hope you liked it. Please remember to review so you can tell me what you think/if you have any ideas/if you caught the reference. I do have a sequence of events but if you have something you want to happen and I like it too and it would fit in, then there's a good chance I'll add it to the story! Thanks again.**


	3. Something Wrong

**Trigger warning, in depth talk of a fatal car crash, and death. Mentioned depression.**

* * *

Jean crawled into bed that night thinking about what Claire had said. Of course, Jean had never had very close friends, but even moving away from people that he felt some sort of companionship towards was really hard. He couldn't imagine a lifelong friend dying, especially if it happened while you were right beside him. He did dimly remember seeing Mikasa in one of his classes. She had looked bored with everything, but maybe he had mistaken her sadness for apathy. This was the first school year they would be starting without him, so it had probably been pretty difficult for both of them. Some part of him wondered if Mikasa had been Eren's girlfriend, and he felt a stab of something he couldn't quite place. Jealousy? No that couldn't be right, he barely knew the girl to start out with, and even if he did, why would he be jealous of some kid who had died a horrible death?

Maybe it was these thoughts that caused it, but he had a dream that night that he really was Eren.

* * *

_He was wearing a new pair of jeans, and the T-shirt from earlier that day, the one that said 'rage and serenity' and he was cleaning up an unfamiliar room. All of a sudden he heard his phone ring, the ringtone was some funny little thing that sounded like something from Mario. He answered it without checking to see who it was, because he already knew. It was Armin._

_"I'm at the school, can you come get me?" It didn't sound like the voice was coming through the phone, it was more like they were in the room together, he noticed. Of course it wasn't like it mattered anyway, he had to go to school and get Armin._

_"I'm on my way." He told the other boy, hanging up and slipping his cellphone into his pocket. On his way out of the house- no, _his_ house, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. He was still himself, but he knew who he really was. His name was Eren, it didn't really matter to him at the moment what his last name was. He picked up his keys and got into his car. He didn't know what kind of car it was exactly, but it was one of those tallish cars that were the same height as a normal van, but only fit four people, five if they scrunched someone into the middle seat in the back. It wasn't old or new, and it seemed like it was in okay condition. He backed out of the driveway even though he didn't really know how, and set off down the street._

_He had just left his house on the way to the school. The roads all blended together and he didn't know where he was going exactly, but he knew he would get there if he kept going. He was on a country road and it was late, there wasn't anyone around, so he sped up the car and turned the radio on. He knew that if Armin were here he would be freaking out and telling him to slow down, but he didn't care. Armin could scold him for it on the way home. He would know that he had been speeding as soon as he got there because of how much faster he would get there than he normally should, but he wouldn't be too harsh, he knew that much. There was a sound like something falling over, and he looked over to check what it was, not wanting his soda from earlier to spill and make the floors all sticky._

_Then all of a sudden he was feeling completely weightless, so he looked up to see what was happening. What he found was that he had come to the top of a hill where the road turned sharply. He hadn't made the turn, because he wasn't looking, and now he was flying. No, flying implied that he was moving fast. He was floating through the air, and it seemed like he was going in slow motion. Ahead, the ground was far below him, his view of it only obstructed by a tree. After what seemed like at least a few minutes of peaceful gliding, his car was hitting the tree with enough force to throw him forward and he was flying out the window, shards of glass raining down like pieces of diamonds as he watched them, the only thought coming to his mind being that he had completely forgotten to buckle his seatbelt. __His body came to a jolting stop farther up in the branches. _

_Nothing had really changed, but he dimly registered that some time had passed since he had been flung into the tree, and he looked around to see what had become of his car. There below him laid only a broken, twisted, smoking mess of metal and glass shards. Although his own body didn't hurt, he was able to see that his clothes were stained with blood, dripping scarlet down his face and body to leave their mark on the snow below. Had there been snow there before? He couldn't really remember, everything was so fuzzy. He could hear the sound from earlier that had reminded him of Mario and tried to reach for his phone, but it was on the ground and he couldn't move his arms anyway, he wasn't even sure if he had arms anymore. Hell, he didn't know if he was alive anymore._

_Everything faded away for a while, but finally he opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital bed. Everything was clean and white, and the smell of bleach and cleaning products burned his lungs more than it probably should have. He looked down and saw a tube going into his mouth. It scared him a little, as did the beeps and whirs of the machines all around his bed, but he didn't have the energy to sit up or say anything about it, so he decided to use the little __amount that he had to look around._

_There were two people in the room with him. His mother wasn't one of them, but that didn't surprise him since she was dead and he must not be. After all, if he were dead then he wouldn't be in a hospital, wether it was heaven or hell. He was, however, surprised and annoyed to see that his father wasn't there either. Where was he? What was more important to seeing your son who was recovering from a near death experience? Apparently he was more important to his two best friends, Armin and Mikasa. He recognized Mikasa immediately, with her silky black hair that fell just past her shoulders and her pretty brown eyes. He was pretty sure she was Asian, but her face kept blurring and twisting into different shapes. Armin's face was steady though, beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair so soft that he wanted to reach out and touch it so that he could know what it felt like, but he couldn't because his arms wouldn't move from the bed he laid on._

_As much as he was happy to see both of them, he was a little put off by the fact that both of them were crying. Mikasa'a face hardly changed when she cried, but her cheeks were wet, and her eyes were puffy and red, so he knew she must be. Armin however, had his entire face scrunched up in sadness, and his eyes were blurred out by tears. His nose was running too and he would have told the kid to just go blow his nose or something if he could talk, but he couldn't, so instead he continued to study his face. It took him a while to see that his lips were moving, and he realized that he must be saying something. He couldn't hear the words, but if he watched closely he thought he could make out the words "I'm so sorry Eren, this is all my fault." and for a second wanted nothing more than to throw a ball of paper at him like he used to (he didn't know when used to happened, but he knew that it had) and tell him not to be stupid because that wasn't true at all and he didn't blame him one bit. Still he couldn't move, so instead he looked back to Mikasa._

_Sitting in the chair where she had been was a boy with blue green eyes and shaggy dark brown hair. Jean knew at once that it was the real Eren, partly because he was wearing the familiar T-shirt and partly because it made little sense for it to be anyone else. He leaned forward and smiled, whispering so softly that Jean almost didn't hear him at all "Take care of him for me. You can do that, can't you? Please take care of Armin." He tried to smile back, and turned his head again._

_He looked back over to Armin's chair to tell him not to cry because his friend was okay, but Armin was gone, replaced by his mother Claire. She looked sad, crying just as Armin had been before. They cried the same way, it brought out their resemblance. "Why won't you just help my son? He's a good boy, he's such a good little boy." _

_She was drowned out before long by Mikasa, who was back now, standing next to his bed with Eren, shaking him. "WHY AREN'T YOU DOING A BETTER JOB PROTECTING HIM, HE WAS MY FRIEND!" _

_"MY POOR SON" Mrs. Arlert's wailing rose up again, so shrill and pained that he wanted to tape her mouth shut or something. Anything to make it stop. She was hurting his ears and his whole head felt ready to explode._

_"Protect him, Jean."_

_Their voices became louder and louder, Eren's never rising above a whisper, but it somehow was able to cut through the other's like a knife so that he was the most audible of all of them. The chorus of shouting continued as it grew and grew until he was afraid he would go deaf forever._

* * *

Jean jerked awake, kicking off his frayed blanket in his haste to sit up. A quick peek around the curtain that separated the room into two parts told him that his dad wasn't home yet. On nights like this he never bothered getting ready for bed, just collapsed onto the mattress in his clothes and fell asleep, so if he was home that's where he would be. He checked his phone, a beaten old flip phone that was at least five years old. He would have gotten a new one, but he couldn't afford it and neither could his dad. The important thing was that it worked okay and the time was right. At the moment it read 4:58, so he got out of bed and got dressed. An early start wouldn't hurt him and at the moment he was too shaken to go back to sleep.

He put his books in his bag and went to his tiny closet, pulling out a plain short sleeved green shirt. It was one of his best, so he was glad to be able to wear it. He was planning on wearing his jeans from yesterday, but whe he went to pick them up from where he had folded them on the floor he found that they were soaking wet. It seemed he had managed to put them under a leaky spot in the ceiling. Those were his only pair of halfway decent pants. He reached down under his bed and reluctantly pulled out a pair of black and grey basketball shorts. It wasn't really his first choice of clothing, but he had to wear something and they would do well enough.

He hung his jeans over the closet door to dry, and got a large pot from the kitchen to catch the water that dripped down from the ceiling. He grabbed a jacket too, almost as an afterthought and headed out the front door.

Jean was very happy to find that the rain had almost completely stopped. It was just a light drizzle now, that left tiny droplets of water on his hair and eyelashes. Of course, it was still chilly out, so he was glad for his jacket, but it wasn't like last night when he felt like a drowned rat the second he got outside.

As he started down the street his stomach growled, but he ignored it. They didn't have enough food at home to be wasting on breakfast, and the school gave him free breakfast and lunch. He still hated charity, but that was one of the few reasons he would tolerate it. Being a teenage boy meant eating a lot of food, and if it was free then he would take it without question.

* * *

When he finally got to school it was almost 6:30, which gave him another hour before school started for his damp clothes to dry, for him to eat, and to familiarize himself with the school a little more. He liked getting to school early, it gave him more time to do stuff that he needed to get done, and besides, teachers tended to like the kids who they thought were dedicated, and who was he to turn down a little favoring and bonus points when they came his way?

First thing was first, he needed something to eat. His stomach was now making a nearly constant growling noise, and it was becoming more than a little bit painful. In the cafeteria they were serving hot pockets and juice boxes, so he got one of both, not having to pay for it, as usual. Although it wasn't really that much food, it did at least help settle his stomach.

He spent the rest of his spare time trudging through the halls and memorizing the fastest route to all of his classes. It didn't take long to figure out which ways were best, but he persisted in going over them again and again until the bell to go to class sounded. He was on the other side of the school, but pretty confident about finding his way to chemistry, so he didn't rush. In the hallways nearly every face was a stranger. There were the few that he recognized from yesterday, flitting in between the others. It made him feel like an intruder, barging into someplace he had no business being.

the feeling got worse when he saw Armin. He automatically felt guilty about his dream. He had no right to dream about someone he had never known, and no right to think himself some sort of protector for their best friend. He sat down silently and the two exchanged pleasant nods.

They spent the rest of the class period studiously ignoring one another. It was sort of strange, because it wasn't as if either of them were mad; at least that wasn't the case for Jean and he couldn't imagine why Armin would be upset with him. With another pang of guilt he remembered that he was apparently like Eren and that might be making him reluctant to start liking him.

_That's good_. He tried to tell himself. _I'm not supposed to get close to anyone either. Last night was a fluke. No friends, no attachments, that's how it has to be. _But his heart really wasn't in it and before he knew it class was over and he was walking to math class with Marco, who had explained to him that this school had a block schedule, and today he had chemistry, math, creative writing, and acting because those were his odd numbered classes. Tomorrow he would have the evens and math, which was shorter or something and they had it every day but Monday, and Mondays they had all of their classes but their third hour.

Of course Jean would have math every day. It was probably his least favorite class, though it was very close to chemistry. Still, it probably had it beat. It wasn't even like he was bad at math, he knew how to do it and was pretty good. He just hated it. He didn't really understand much of the explanation of classes other than that he had to go through that hell every day, but Marco had given his word that it would get easier to remember.

As soon as he sat down in his seat he remembered that Mikasa was in this class. That was how he remembered her, however little he did. He wasn't sure he could face her without asking something about Eren and seeming like a complete dick. Then again, he wasn't planning on being a super nice person, nice people were liked by lots of people and when other people liked him then he started to like them back. _I'll ask her then, it won't hurt anything. She looked tougher than Armin anyway_.

He didn't even have the chance to look around to see if she was in the room yet, before she was standing next to him, looking into his eyes with more seriousness and coldness than he would have thought possible for someone so pretty. He hadn't payed much attention to her yesterday, other than to see her dark hair and eyes. He had recognized that she was pretty, but he didn't have time for having a crush on anyone, so as with any other pretty girl he just ignored her. Now, at this proximity, it was hard to do that.

"You went home with Armin." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Wha- How do you know that?" He stumbled across his words stupidly.

She didn't answer him, but looked ready to deliver a heavy blow to his face. "If you do anything to hurt him. _Anything. _I will not hold back when I get started on you. Do you understand me?" Her voice held no emotion, but that made it all the more terrifying.

"You're threatening me with beating the shit out of me if I do anything to Armin right? I think I understand you just fine." He was unable to stop the sarcasm from entering his voice, though he knew it was probably a bad idea.

Mikasa narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't say a word. Instead she whirled around to walk back to her desk. Before he really even thought about what he was doing, he had reached out and grabbed her arm. Her response was immediate, as was the sharp pain in his wrist.

"Jesus Christ, I just wanted to ask you a question." He whimpered, in a voice that was far from manly, clutching his wrist.

"What?" She didn't sound remotely sorry for hurting, which concerned him. Obviously that had been her idea of holding back.

"What happened to Eren? Why did he get in that crash? Armin thinks it's his fault, why?" He could hear his voice shake. He was pretty sure he was about to get his head bashed in, and from the looks of it so did Reiner, who had come into the room just in time to hear his question and whose expression and sympathetic wince clearly showed how he thought that question would end for him. Mikasa's own face had darkened into an unreadable and calm expression. He wasn't sure if it was because she didn't mind the question or if it were the calm before the storm. He somehow suspected the latter.

Instead she smiled. Or it was something close to a smile, one corner of her mouth pulled up a little, barely enough to be visible. "He was a really shitty driver actually, I'm surprised he went that long without getting in a crash."

Jean felt his confusion register on his face, and quickly tried to hide it. It might not be best to question her right now.

"He was going to pick Armin up, but that doesn't make it his fault. He won't listen to me when I tell him so, and now he won't talk to me at all. He's too guilty about the whole thing. Eren was my brother, and I knew him better than almost anyone. He was reckless, he didn't pay attention to the road." She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, I thought he would just get some sort of fender bender and wise up, no one ever would have expected it to happen like it did."

Jean left caution behind as he continued his questions. "How did it happen exactly? Was it a head on collision or something else? And how were you in the same grade if you were brother and sister? Were you fraternal twins or something?"

She sat down across from him. "I'm adopted, but we were the same age." she started, obviously deciding to start out with the easier question. He wasn't exactly sure why she was so willing to answer him, he hadn't thought she would be. Maybe it was just for Armin's sake. She still loved him, probably as much as she had her brother, and love made people do all kinds of things they wouldn't normally do. Like talking about their recently deceased adoptive brother apparently. "It was winter, so there was snow and ice on the road. The most likely explanation is that he was going too fast or turned too hard. Maybe both. Either way, he went off the road. He might have been okay, but no one found him for almost an hour. He was basically dead by then, the only reason he wasn't was the cold. It slowed the bleeding, but we all knew there wasn't much chance for him. They still tried to save him, they amputated an arm and a leg that were beyond help and had him hooked up to a bunch of machines. He had hypothermia, brain damage, blunt force trauma, places where the branches from tree he got stuck in had stabbed him all the way through. You name it he had it. It was horrible seeing him like that, he might as well have been in a coma. The last night he did wake up for a while, and he acted almost like normal. He smiled at us and said he felt like a million bucks. He kept pretending he was feeling great until right before he died. I think he felt it coming, because up until then he was acting so happy, probably for Armin. At the end though he said goodbye and I think that's what really broke him." She looked down and her face wasn't visible behind her hair, but he saw a tear fall into her lap.

He was close to crying himself. That was a real person, not just someone from a sad movie. He didn't think himself an emotional person, but something about Eren was much sadder than anything he had really experienced. Maybe because he was someone who was apparently a lot like him. Still, if he were in the same position he doubted he would have been able to even pretend he was okay, not for anyone.

Mikasa was looking at him again, her eyes were puffy, but there was no other real sign that she was crying. "I'm only telling this so that you know why you need to be careful with Armin. Claire told me that you remind her of Eren. You have to understand, Armin can't loose another Eren, so either you promise that you can stay here and be there for him, or you don't even let him think that you're friends. He's the only family I have left now, and I know I can't do much to help him, but I try to stop him getting hurt any more than he needs to."

"I can't promise I'll be here for him. I can't even promise I'll be here for a year. I'm sorry, but I just can't. He seems like a great person, but I can't promise that." He told her, trying to communicate that it was nothing against him. He felt bad, Armin needed someone that he could actually be around, and even if Mikasa did try to protect him, she had said herself that she couldn't be around him.

"Then stay away from him. Don't be mean, but don't let him think that the two of you are friends. You don't seem that bad, and I think you two could be, but I swear if I see you getting his hopes up, with the knowledge that you won't be there for him, then my threat still stands." She got up and looked at him, not angrily really, just sort of disappointed.

He hesitated before speaking again. "I know it's not my place to comment on it, but I'm glad he has you. He needs someone looking out for him." He had decided that he liked Mikasa very much. His wrist was still throbbing, but that meant that she was strong, and maybe Armin needed someone strong to fight his battles for him. Heaven knows he couldn't fight them himself.

She nodded, not showing any real expression. "Thanks. I'm really sorry you can't be here. I think you'd be good for each other." She responded. Jean already felt that there was some sort of unspoken alliance between them. They would both look out for Armin, and try to keep him safe and happy as best they could.

* * *

The rest of the week passed by uneventfully. Jean made sure not to talk or really show any form of affection towards Armin, which wasn't overly difficult for him. He had a knack for making people dislike him, wether it was by being rude or snobbish, or just being a dick in general. He tried to just be rude and uncaring with Armin though, he didnt want to hurt him or anything. If he was to be entirely honest with himself, he didn't really know why he was so concerned with the guy, it wasn't as if he had never been at a school where someone had died recently. Really, one death in the grade level was a pretty low mortality rate, all things considered. Maybe he just had a soft spot for Armin because he was so fragile, or maybe it was because he still felt a little uncomfortable for thinking Armin was a girl those two times, like he owed him or something. Hell, maybe he just didn't want to have his ass kicked by some girl he barely knew.

It was another two weeks before anything worth noticing happened between them. There was an assignment due in chemistry, and Jean completely forgot about it. When Mrs. Clark started around the classroom, he buried his face in his hands. It was so embarrassing, he was supposed to be a model student and he totally messed it up.

"Are you feeling okay?" It was Armin, of course, whispering beside him. He acted so concerned all of the time, it made him wonder if he was naturally like that or if there was some sort of lingering affection for the person that reminded him of his dead friend. It seemed more likely that the first reason was it, after how he had been acting towards him. It was hard to imagine that he could possibly have any special fondness towards him whatsoever. His completed pape laid on the table, and he looked at it forlornly.

Still, he should really answer. Not doing so might be too harsh. "I forgot to do the paper, no big deal." He admitted, before remembering himself and adding. "Not that it's any of your business."

Armin didn't say anything else after that, and Jean felt his usual pang of guilt. The kid was just so fragile, with his delicate little emotions and blue eyes and blonde hair. He reminded him of a doll. there was a brief rustling of paper and the scratching of a pencil, but he ignored it, more focused on the fact that he was destroying his reputation in his third week of school. He had seen enough teachers to know that the beginning of the year was when you had to try the hardest, because the teachers would judge you for it for the rest of the year. Of course, it was already too late though.

"Armin, you didn't get it done?" Mrs. Clark asked, not unkindly. There was a disappointed sort of tone to her voice, and Jean was immediately confused. He had _seen_ him pull the paper out, he had it. He put down his hands and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Armin kicked him under the table. He looked down at the paper that was obviously sitting on the table, and found that not only had it been pushed over next to Jean, his name was written at the top in Armin's neat, organized handwriting. even though hr knew that he should probably say something, he needed to get that turned in _today_ and if Armin wanted to risk his grade for him, then why should he object? It was his own choice.

He kept his mouth shut until Mrs. Clark had taken the paper and left. "What was that? You can't just give people your assignment because you want to be nice. It doesn't work that way." Jean whispered harshly. He was getting really sick of this being nice to him bullshit. It was fine to be polite, but giving him assignments? It was going way to far. Self sacrificing and polite were different, and he had crossed a line that he shouldn't even _want_ to cross.

"Why not? You didn't get it done and I don't care if mine is late." Armin sounded almost bored with the conversation. It was weird, he was kind of a nerd, he should care almost as much as Jean about getting his stuff in on time.

He was dumbfounded. "Because you'll make a bad impression on teachers. They'll think you're a slacker." It really didn't seem that difficult to understand.

"Well even if they do, it won't matter for long anyway." He waved a hand carelessly.

When he said it, Jean felt a strange lurch in his stomach that he couldn't make sense of. It was like someone else was reacting instead of him. He quickly spoke up. "What do you mean?"

"Please, Jean, I'm practically a genius. I could leave school for a month with no reason and the teachers would all still love me." The explanation came out fast. Almost too fast to be believe able, but what other reason could there be? His answer didn't really do anything to ease the unpleasant feeling inside, but he decided it didn't really matter. If he was so confident in himself then he must have a reason. Besides, it had nothing to do with him. His reputation was intact. Nothing else should matter.

* * *

Of course, that wasn't really true, and he knew that deep down. Armin was acting weird, and since he had decided to try and protect him, anything out of the ordinary that might happen was a concern. Still, he didn't say anything to Mikasa, and he didn't go out of his way to keep an eye on him. The way he saw it, the whole thing wasn't a very big deal. Armin could do wierd stuff and not be a problem. He just needed to pay a little more attention.

Three weeks later his concern was triggered once again. Armin missed chemistry completely, which wasn't that big of a deal. People got sick, and that seemed like the most likely reason. Later though, when he went to acting he was surprised to see that the little blonde was actually there. He didn't say anything, but Marco did when he came in, and Armin explained that he had accidentally slept in and missed first hour. It wasn't anything to be worried about, sometimes people did that. The concerning thing happened toward the middle of class when they got their normal five minute break.

"Hey, Jean!" Came the familiar voice of his (reluctantly so) favorite aryan coconut.

It was normal for them to talk during acting class. Everyone was closer there. People who would never talk normally got along like lifelong friends, so it wasn't at all unusual to talk during the break.

"Yeah?" He was a interested now that he saw the boy, arm behind his back and holding a plastic bag.

"I have something for you."

Now that _was_ unusual. People didnt just give each other gifts at random. Most people probably wouldn't give each other presents on their birthdays, not unless they were close friends outside this class. Or maybe if that person was Marco. Still, they were basically strangers. They never even saw each other outside of class if you didn't count that first day of school, which he didn't.

"Why?" He inquired, genuinely confused.

"Because I'm nice." He stated flatly, holding out a plastic bag. "Here, they don't fit me, so you can have them." His tone didn't match the situation at all, and he remembered that day at his house when he had been acting weird like this.

Jean felt a familiar coldness in the pit of his stomach as he pulled out a gray T-shirt and a pair of Deadpool pajama bottoms, along with two pairs of jeans, much nicer than what he had.

"Armin, don't these belong to..." He wasn't sure he wanted to even bring up his name, but it was futile anyway. He knew whose clothes he was giving away, and obviously had been expecting the question.

"I _knew_ it. She told you." Armin's voice was somewhere between accusing and teasing. "Well, it's my choice and he was my friend. Really, I can remember him well enough without some old clothes that I can't even wear. They fit you, take them."

"But he's _dead_, isn't it a little weird to be giving away his clothes?" Jean felt a little uncomfortable even talking about the clothes, he couldn't imagine actually wearing them.

"To be perfectly honest, seeing them is a little depressing. I mean he can't ever wear them again. If you have them then it'll be like you just happen to have the same shirt, and I won't even notice the pants. It would be better if I didn't have to see them every time I got something out of the closet." He explained, eyes still dead. It was as unsettling as last time.

He felt like he should argue more, but he couldn't really think of anything to say. "Are you sure? I mean it's not like he's getting any new clothes."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He shrugged. "Anyway, we should probably get back to class. our break must be close to over by now." He was probably right, so they went together back to the room.

* * *

They didn't really talk for the rest of the hour, and as soon as the bell rang for the end of class Armin ran out the door. It felt too weird, it was just filling him with an unshakeable weird feeling in his gut. He didn't want to say anything to Mikasa, she might get mad at him and think he wasn't pretending to not care about him anymore, and getting beat up wasn't on his to do list. He wanted to avoid it if he could help it. The next best thing he could think of was to ask Marco about it. The two weren't exactly friends, but they got along well enough.

"Hey Marco, come here for a second." He called.

The tall freckled boy was almost out the door, but he spun around with an almost amusing gracefulness and walked over. He always had that bounce in his step, it was nice to be around him really. He was a little reluctant to bring up Armin at all, it might make him sad, and a sad Marco just seemed too weird. "Yeah, Jean?"

He decided to just jump into it. "I'm worried about Armin. He's acting really wierd, I mean he just gave me a bag full of Eren's clothes. I told his mom and Mikasa that I would look out for him, but I don't know him that well. How weird is it for him to just give away something that belonged to Eren?"

As he suspected, Marco's face dropped. His frown was very unbecoming. "Well, really weird actually. He was always with Eren when he was alive, and he would take anything of his that he could get After he died. Stuff to remember him by. He's pretty sentimental. I mean it's possible for him to be trying to move on, but it's unlikely."

That was the answer he had been dreading. He decided to reach out a little farther, though he knew he was really just grasping at straws. "Then what do you think is wrong? There must be something."

"I don't know, but I think it would be best if you watched out for him. Tell Mikasa about it, she needs to know."

Why did Marco have to be so nice and perfect all the time? He was always so worried about other people. Armin did that too, but Marco was like the amplified version, and it seemed so much more natural. "Thanks." Was all he said, knowing deep down that there was no way he would tell Mikasa. Plus, they didn't have school tomorrow, and that was Friday. He didn't know any way to contact her outside of school even if he wanted to.

"You know, you're a good guy Jean. Not many people would care so much about someone they just met." And with that he wrapped his arms around Jean in one of the best hugs he had ever experienced, and left.

* * *

That night Jean couldn't sleep at all. He was worried about Armin, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Well, he knew why, but not why he was worried to the degree that he was. He did hope he was just over reacting, but Marco's reaction had confirmed that his worry was valid. There was something wrong and he needed to find out what it was.

* * *

**So I kind of cut this chapter in two because it was getting really long and it was taking forever. Sorry for the wait (17 days!) but the next chapter shouldn't take as long. I won't make any promises because finals are right around the corner. Yeah, so don't forget to review. Reviews mean I'm excited, and if I'm excited then my new chapters will be better and come faster. So REVIEW! I hope you all liked it, and have a nice day.**


	4. Pure Luck

**Trigger warning, (SPOILER ALERT) talk of depression and suicide, as well as drunkenness.**

* * *

Jean spent hours tossing and turning in bed that night, and with his father working the double night shift again (Apparently that was his work schedule until further notice) he didn't figure it would matter if he took a walk to get him more tired. Still, he wasn't overly convinced that it was a good idea, it would be better if he could just fall asleep.

It was just past midnight when he finally decided to just go out and do it. He was bored out of his mind just laying here and staring at the ceiling. He put on his warmest pair of sweatpants, a long sleeved shirt, and his jacket and stepped outside, only to find that it had heated up considerably during the day, and was now warm and muggy, with a pleasant, but strong wind rustling the leaves of the trees in the neiborhood. He normally would have just changed his mind and laid back down because of that, but tonight he felt some sort of driving force beneath his restlessness.

He went back inside his pathetic excuse for a house, and changed back into his clothes from that day, pulling them out of the hamper to find them only slightly wrinkled. He still brought the jacket just in case, but he seriously doubted that he would have any real need of it tonight.

Jean had been blessed with a remarkable sense of direction and a knack for remembering directions, so it was very rare for him to get lost. It was a good talent to have when you moved from city to city all the time, and it made him much more comfortable with going on walks. Because of that, he allowed himself to wander around, not really caring where he went. He knew enough to recognize places and people that he should stay away from, but other than that he just kept walking, not overly concerned with where he'd end up.

_This is really a pretty nice town. Not too big, not too small, just right. _Jean thought as he walked. He had been to plenty of too big towns, where no one knew each other and you always had to wait a long time to be able to cross the street. It seemed now that everyone was asleep, although there was the occasional car passing by. Of course, it _was_ midnight on a Thursday, and he could presume that most people had to go to work in the morning. He was pretty happy about the teacher work day. It gave him a chance to relax, roam the city, and do something other than study for once. He would probably still do some studying, it seemed like he couldn't make it through a day without doing some form of work, but still, he could at least have an extra day to fit in all the studying he needed done, which meant a lot more free time, and by god he was going to use it.

He passed by several streets lined with cute little houses, darkened with the lack of any source of light but the lamp posts that stood in each yard. They weren't as bright as street lights, but it was nice in a way, what with the old timey feel they gave off. This was probably an older part of town, and well maintained too, by the looks of it. Areas like this had always been his favorite, it made him feel like he had stepped out of a time machine to some place where no one knew his name or his face, and he could start over and work his way up to being rich. It was funny how all his fantasies revolved around that, and sometimes it made him wonder if he was really a terrible person, but at least he had the motivation to achieve his dreams.

Once he got out of the residential areas and back onto the streets he came to a wide open lot with a bridge on the side furthest away from him. It wasn't a very long bridge, though it was high up, and at the moment it looked like it was deserted. It looked like everything was deserted around here really. There were no stores or restaurants, just a few buildings in ill repair that were scattered around in a disorderly fashion, and railroad tracks on the ground, branching off in a few different places to create paths as confused, and sad, and desolate as the buildings that he now assumed were abandoned factories. With their many chimneys and industrial simplicity he couldn't imagine what else they might be.

Even the bridge, made of rusting crisscrossed metal, looked sad and lonely out here, like no one ever came by it. The road was cracked and there were no sidewalks, and he felt it was safe to guess that not many people used the bridge. Maybe they had given it up in favor of the bridge down the river. It was visible from here, with lights across the length of it, and lower down to the ground. It was across a wider part of the river and it seemed like it stretched on forever, magnificent as it spread across the water. Jean couldn't help but think that it was unfair. This bridge was shorter, and the water was deeper. Down at the other bridge it was more like a glorified puddle, which he knew because he had gone over it with Claire on that first day of school. Here at least it was passable as a river, even if it was shallow. Here at least you couldn't see the bottom through the muddy water. That might not be entirely true, it was dark and he couldn't see that well, the water looked black to him. Still, it looked like it was deeper, if only by the way the water moved at the top and the sound that it made.

He continued on his way down the road, determined to walk this bridge in simple defiance of the way it had been consigned to oblivion. It wasn't until he had already put one foot on the bridge that he saw the person in the middle of it, and stopped right where he was.

* * *

They were sort of hunched over, leaning on one of the metal braces In shorts and a hoodie. They (it looked sort of like a girl, but at this distance in the dark it was hard to tell) seemed strangely fitting in this place. Alone, forgotten, and small compared to the vast emptiness around them and the blackness of the water below. It looked to him like they were just watching the water, and he sort of wondered why he just stood here and watched them like they were some kind of rare and endangered bird that he might scare away, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to move forward even if he wanted to. So instead he just watched, hoping that they wouldn't see him and think he was some sort of creep.

It felt like ages before they moved. They turned so that they were looking at the road away from Jean, and he ducked behind one of the many metal bracings before they could look the other way and see him. He peeked at them around the edge as they did just that, and then they did something he wasn't at all prepared for. Slowly, and carefully, they climbed up over the rails on the side of the bridge so that they were standing in the middle of a V created by the crisscrossing pieces of metal. They looked sort of serene and peaceful up there, and for a second his initial alarm went away. Maybe they just liked standing up there, he didn't know.

Of course, that only lasted for a moment before they took a small step forward, their toes now over the empty air. There really wasn't enough room behind them to justify going forward any more, and they weren't holding onto anything either. This wasn't just someone enjoying a nice view of the river, they were clearly about to jump.

Jean didn't really know how he managed to move so quickly, but before he knew what he was doing he had run up onto the bridge right behind the person, reached out and grabbed them by the shoulders, and dragged them backwards up and over the railing. They landed on top of him, squirming to get out of his grip, but he held them tight. It wasn't particularly hard to do, since they were small and not very strong.

"_What the hell were you thinking?_!" He heard himself shout in a voice far more panicky than he had ever heard himself sound before.

"Jean?"

The voice was all too familiar to him, and he immediately dropped his arms, completely stunned. "Armin? What the hell?" He spluttered, trying and failing to form some kind of coherent thought. He had known that something was up, but this wasn't at all what he had been thinking, and he had _certainly_ not been expecting to _know_ the person he pulled away from the edge of a bridge. It wasn't like he could just walk away now either, he had just prevented a suicide attempt for christ sake, it was too dangerous to just leave him here. Oh god, but he was supposed to be staying away from him and not showing signs of personal attachment. This probably counted as at least one of those, and it overstepped the boundaries that he had set for himself by a long shot. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Don't pull shit like that, you'll get hurt!"

"Jean, that was kind of the whole point. I don't jump off bridges for fun you know." Armin said in a surprisingly matter of fact voice. Although he had stopped struggling he still laid on top of Jean, and he reeked of alcohol. It was hard to tell if he was crying or not, because there was a slight slur to his words that could either be from mumbling or drunkenness. It seemed more likely to be the latter.

"You still can't do that, dumbass. What would make you think that was okay?" He didn't mean to be harsh, but it was hard not to be. He was angry. First that little shit had decided to just kill himself and make everyone else miserable, and on top of that he was drunk.

Ever since Jean was a child he couldn't remember his mother being sober. He remembered the smell and the way she behaved, telling him openly what a mistake he had been and how he had ruined her and his father's life by forcing them to support someone else before they could even graduate. She had died of alcohol poisoning five years ago, and the mere presence of any drunk person was enough to set him off. Of course, this drunk person was a sixteen year old boy whose best friend died and who was constantly picked on who had just tried to kill himself, so punching him in the face probably wasn't the best course of action, but even while keeping his actions under control, being nice wasn't easy.

"What makes you think it isn't okay, huh?" Armin retorted. "You just didn't think you would see something like that happening. It's not like it would really matter to you otherwise. I mean I'm useless, weak, defenseless, I look like a girl. Did I forget anything?"

He didn't seem to be in a hurry to get off of him, so Jean shoved him to the side, struggling to make sure he was gentle about it. "You know, you're really an insensitive dick, aren't you? There are people who care about you. Do you think they want to have you die? Especially after what happened to Eren. You can't just jump off a bridge and expect it to solve everything, it'll hurt other people."

"Oh yeah, and I'm an insensitive dick. I think that about covers it." He nodded thoughtfully. "Not as big of one as you, of course. You didn't know Eren at all. You have no right to bring it up." Armin's voice was filled with an uncharacteristic cruelness that made Jean feel incredibly uneasy. "Now if you don't mind leaving, I was kind of in the middle of something."

It was hard to believe this was really happening. Who knows, maybe it wasn't. Maybe all of this was just some sick, twisted, nightmare. "Armin, I'm not letting you do that. I'm not a _completely_ heartless bastard you know."

His attempt at humor was entirely wasted on the other boy, who gave him a steady cold look. "Why do you care? It's not like you were here last year when he died." Armin didn't need to explain who 'he' was, it was obvious that this whole thing had to do with Eren. "You didn't see anything that happened. You didn't watch your friend die right in front of you. You don't know anything." He pushed himself back to his feet, swaying unsteadily as he put a hand on his hip. Somehow it seemed that once he was standing he went back to his normal self. Friendly, and timid, like he needed to be sure that he didn't hurt anyone in any way. "And you can't stop me either. You don't have to feel bad about anything Jean, not about not doing something sooner, and not about letting me just do this. I would be crazy to blame you for any of it, so don't blame yourself or anyone else. It was going to happen anyway, eventually. I mean look at me."

There was something about the way his voice shook and the way his comforting smile crumpled at the end of his sentence, so that it was nothing more than someone fighting crying right at the very end, when it was too late, that broke him. He couldn't be mad at him for drinking. Not really. Hell, that was probably the only way he was able to work himself up to do this. He was trying so hard to pretend to be happy. He'd probably been doing it since Eren died, and he really didn't deserve it. He knew he didn't know him very well, but no one deserved that. Plus, he had been trying all this time to shut himself off from everyone so he wouldn't hurt them. He was so careful with other people, even when he was purposefully destroying himself. Maybe that was the real reason he didn't talk to Mikasa. If she was as close to him as it sounded, completely shutting her out was probably the only way he could think of to try to keep from hurting her.

"I'm sorry. I really really am, I just have to. You don't know what it's like." He was almost pleading as he stepped back toward the railing, trying to right some imagined wrong that he had done before he went.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Jean shook his head as he got up, wrapping his arms around the other in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I'm not letting you over the edge of that bridge, it's just not happening. I'll take you home, how does that sound? You can sleep this off and then we'll talk about the whole thing." He didn't really know how this whole comforting thing worked exactly. He wasn't exactly known for his social prowess.

Armin began to shake against him, finally giving himself up to tears. It was hard to tell wether he was crying because he was sad, or because he had thought he had a way out and all his hopes had been shattered. Jean just held him tight while the sobs wracked his body, stroking his head from time to time for lack of anything else to do. It seemed caring enough, but he didn't really know how to this was supposed to work. by the time he finally nodded and pulled away, the front of Jean's shirt was soaked in what he hoped was mostly tears. He wasn't really too enthusiastic about having snot all over him, no matter what the circumstance. After a brief moment in which Armin cleaned himself up a little, wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve, they began walking back in the opposite direction of where Jean had come from. Thankfully Armin was still coherent enough to know where he lived and how to reach it. He probably didn't want to get lost on his way to the bridge, and that was why he hadn't drunk too much. Leave it to him to calculate just how drunk he needed to be to do what he wanted without screwing it up.

* * *

It wasn't really that long a walk before they got to his house. All the lights were out, which wasn't terribly surprising given the time. It must be close to two o'clock in the morning by now, but it still sparked his curiosity. "Armin, where are your parents? Didn't they notice that you snuck out?" His mom had seemed like the kind of person who would notice that kind of thing anyway, he hadn't actually met his dad yet. He had been at work or something when Jean had come here last.

"They left for the weekend, they'll be gone until Sunday night. I planned this whole thing out pretty well. I _am_ half a genius, remember?" So a little bit of humor, that at least was a good sign. Still, he should probably stay here for tonight at least. Armin couldn't be allowed to stay at home all alone. He had passed the point of being polite, it would be far more rude to let their son die than to invite himself to sleep over.

"So I guess they have tomorrow off work too." He said, trying to fill the silence while Armin unlocked the door, his hands unsteady enough that it took longer than it probably should have under normal circumstances.

"No, the trip is for work. Mom was going to stay here with me, but I told them it would be a good chance for some alone time. I'm responsible enough to be trusted, so they thought if be fine for one weekend. Wouldn't this be a surprise? Getting drunk and letting a strange boy into the house. I'd never hear the end of it." He muttered, as the door finally swung open. It was like he was telling a joke while he was sad, and it made it hard to tell if it was meant to be funny or not.

Besides, that seemed like an odd statement to begin with, coming from him. He wasn't a girl, no matter how much he looked like one, so coming home with another boy while they weren't home shouldn't be that bad, right? He had been friends with Eren, and Jean was pretty sure the two of them had spent the night at some point, if not on a regular basis. Then again, maybe he meant they that they would think he'd mess up the house, or take something. Really he couldn't blame them, this was a very nice house, and they weren't lacking for money and things to steal. He felt the familiar pang of jealousy and wanted to slap himself. He was now being jealous of some little girly boy who had just attempted to kill themself. He really needed to draw the line somewhere.

Armin continued. "Imagine the things that they would think we got up to. Well, don't imagine them too vividly, that might make things uncomfortable." The front entryway went straight into the living room, and Armin had left Jean behind and was now facing him leaning back precariously over the arm of the couch. "You're pretty handsome, you know. Do people tell you that often? because they really should. Even your eyes by themselves. They're just so pretty. I've never seen eyes like that."

Wait what? Was he completely misinterpreting the situation, or was Armin hitting on him? It wasn't like he would judge him for it or anything, he was too drunk for boundaries at this point, but he hadn't thought that the kid was gay. And at this given moment it seemed like he would be more apt to talk about how miserable his life was. Either way, in his experience most gay guys tried to seem at least a little bit manly so that people didnt... Well... treat them like they did Armin, he supposed. "Armin, it doesn't really matter either way, but are you gay?" He couldn't stop himself, he had to at least know for sure. He was never one to deal with curiosity, even at the most inappropriate times.

"You didn't know? I didn't think it was hard to figure out." He smirked. "You know, you're the first person who's been surprised. I don't know what I'm supposed to say about it. Should I comfort you and tell you I wont pull any moves on you? Be extra careful not to touch you? Maybe if I just let you leave. But you aren't leaving are you? I'm too high risk to be alone." Armin's ramblings became more and more confused as he went on. It would he funny if he didn't sound sad. Of course, given what had happened tonight, it would have been pretty weird for him to sound happy. It was already weird for him to be so busy talking about something irrelevant as sexuality though, so why couldn't it at least be a pleasant weirdness?

"Hey, it doesn't bother me or anything." He assured him. "I mean straight guys don't try to have sex with every single girl they come across, why would a gay guy be any different?" He was serious, it wasn't really a concern of his. "Besides," he tried to take on a more humerous tone, tonight they could use all the humor they could get. "I think we both know you couldn't overpower me."

Armin gave a small smile that looked faked, before letting himself fall backwards onto the couch cushions. "I'm sure we've had enough proof of that tonight."

He instantly felt uncomfortable, remembering the way he had held him as he struggled. Did he think that he was going to try to hurt him or something, or was it just desperation to get off the bridge before he could really be stopped?

"Do you need anything? Food, water, a toothbrush, anything at all?" This whole being friendly thing was pretty difficult for Jean. Not nearly as difficult as he had been expecting, but difficult nonetheless. He was so used to taking care of himself and only himself that even remembering to ask things like that was hard, but he wanted to change the subject anyway, he wasn't sure if either of them were ready to talk about what had happened tonight just yet.

"I'd rather just go to sleep, if that's okay with you." It was strange, he wasn't even being rude about it, he was literally asking permission to sleep.

"Yeah, of course. I completely understand." It was true, he had been around his mom to know that sleeping it off was sometimes the best thing to do. The thought of her brought back another wave of rage, and with it his usual violent urges. Only with a great amount of willpower was he able to control it. Violence would not help this. Beating up a drunk, suicidal teenager half his size wouldn't solve anything at all, it would probably just make the situation worse. No, probably was too weak a word. There was literally no possible way that it would make this better.

Armin, who had lifted up his head so he could look at him, had apparently noticed it though. "You're mad at me aren't you? I can see it, your fist is all clenched like you're gonna hit something." His voice was so steady that it was like he was sober, but the fact that he had pointed out behavior that could possibly cause conflict gave him away. He would never have done that normally.

"I just..." He trailed off, not sure how to put it so it didn't seem like he was trying to make this about him. Even _he_ could see that would be one of the worst things he could do, and he was prone to saying horrible things without ever thinking they were bad. "I don't do well around drunk people." He finished, hoping his abruptness would shut down any more investigation on that front.

Luckily it seemed that Armin was too distracted by the obvious. "So you noticed that, did you?" He asked, flopped his head back down on the couch. "I didn't think it was that noticeable."

"What? Of course I noticed. Plus you just said it yourself like a minute ago." His irritation was quickly replaced by worry. It wasn't exactly unusual for someone to forget something when they were drunk, but it just seemed so out of character for him, he was supposed to remember everything.

"Did I rea-"

"I think we should call it a night actually, you've been up long enough." He interrupted. It wasn't like he would remember him being rude well enough to say anything about it. "We can sleep out here in the living room. Do you have any pillows and blankets that we could use?"

"Of course, follow me." Armin stood with a surprising amount of speed and grace before leading Jean out of the room and down the hall that they had gone down last time he was here. When they reached the end of the hall they turned right, towards a set of stairs he hadn't seen the last time. He had kind of been wondering where they could possibly be, since he had seen most, if not all of the bottom floor. After all, there had to be stairs somewhere, it was clearly a two story house.

At the top of the stairs they turned left, into what he assumed must be Armin's bedroom. the walls were all pained in swirling shades of blue, with flecks of golden yellow peeking out here and there. It reminded him of some painting that he couldn't really remember the name of. On the wall opposite the door there was a bed (Far larger than his own, he couldn't help but notice) that was laden with far more pillows and blankets than any one bed could possibly need. He also noticed that the room was spotless, probably so that his family wouldn't have to clean it when he was gone. That realization hurt more than he had expected it to. He wasn't sure why he was so concerned with the kid, it really was none of his business. He was only staying here in an effort to be a decent human being, and because he didn't trust him not to try again if he left.

Jean was too lost in thought to notice that Armin had not accompanied him all the way to the bed, and turned around in confusion to find him. Before he could protest, Armin had backed him up against the bed, causing his knees to buckle as he fell onto it, still sitting. "What are yo-" he was cut off by the other boy pressing their lips together, being far more aggressive than Jean would have thought him capable of. He was sloppy, that was for sure. Not that he himself could brag about how great _he_ was, but it wasn't overly difficult to recognize it. Of course, part of it could have been the alcohol, which was the only thing allowing him to be this forward in the first place.

He tried to be gentle as he pushed the boy away. "You really need some sleep Armin, let's just grab some of these and go downstairs, okay?"

Armin seemed a little put out, but grabbed two blankets and a pillow, which was the exact opposite of Jean, who had chosen a single blanket, although it was a thick one, and two cushy pillows. He didn't really understand why what had just happened didn't bother him. Maybe he just understood that he didn't fully know what he was doing. There was no other reasonable explanation, it wasn't like he was gay or anything, he didn't have the time or energy to waste on that kind of thing. It was a distraction, and he couldn't afford distractions if he wanted to go anywhere in life. He had always just assumed he was straight as a default, never letting himself get close enough to someone to even begin to feel attracted to them. It wasn't really out of the question-

_No, you're straight as a board. Why are you even thinking about that, you're supposed to be helping Armin to not kill himself, remember?_ He shook his head, as if that could clear his head. "Okay, so you get to sleep on the couch." He told Armin, who immediately protested.

"Then where are you going to sleep? We don't have anything else down there." He had snapped back to reality enough to realize that, at least.

"I'm sleeping on the floor, I want to be able to know if you're getting up. I don't trust you." He shrugged. "You have a nice, soft, carpet, i could find worse places to sleep." Me he had, many times. He had slept on the wooden pews in a church for nearly a month once, when his dad had lost his job. They had four dollars and the clothes on their back, and nothing else.

"But you're a _guest_." He protested halfheartedly. It was clear that he wanted sleep more than he wanted to argue.

"A guest who prefers to sleep on the floor. You're on the couch, no arguing." He only added the last part so that Armin wouldn't feel socially obligated to continue this whole thing, and he was happy when he didn't say anything else.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to set up their sleeping areas, and by the time Jean was finished with his, Armin was already done and watching him With a strange look in his eyes.

"Hey, are you feeling okay? You're just drunk, right? No extra stuff to worry about?" It was a legitimate question, but as soon as he asked it he was worried about sounding rude. At the moment he was extra sensitive to his own rudeness, he didn't want to make the already emotionally unstable boy any worse.

"I'm okay. Well, not okay okay, but okay. You know what I mean?"

Jean was proud to be able to say that yes, he knew exactly what that meant. before he could say anything though, a pair of slender arms wrapped themselves around his neck, their owner sliding off of the couch to sit in his lap on the floor. He saw it coming this time, but he didn't do anything to stop it when Armin's lips moment with his own. It seemed that he had figured out what he was doing last time, because this time the kiss was actually, and he hated to say it, _pleasant_. It was what he imagined that a kiss was supposed to be like. Of course, when Armin's tongue pressed against his lips he decided that he was letting this go way too far.

"Armin, you don't really want to do this. You're drunk and emotional right now, and adding this won't make anything better. You just need to lay down and get some rest, okay?" Armin frowned at him, but climbed back onto the couch and was already asleep by the time Jean got himself situated in his own spot on the floor. It reminded him of a toddler in a way.

He had been right about the floor being comfortable, and the events of the night had worn him out enough that he would have no trouble going to sleep. Still, one thought kept him up. What exactly was going on between him and Armin? He had enjoyed that last kiss more than he should have. Armin's lips, soft against his own. How his lips had been left with the weirdest taste of apple cider afterwards. The feel of that silky hair between his fingers, and the thin fingers tangling themselves in his own hair.

No. He couldn't really be thinking about that, it was ridiculous. The whole thing was meaningless, he knew that. It was a simple matter of lowered inhibitions and miscommunication. Armin probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning, and it would be better if he just forgot about it too.

It was with those thoughts that he finally went to sleep.

* * *

**Hey so I cut this in half again, which means that this chapter, the last chapter, and the next chapter were all originally going to be one big super chapter. You can see why I broke it down, right? Anyway, I hope you liked it, there was some serious angst and fluff in there but altogether I hope it was good. Please remember to review. I am a huge review beggar, and if I don't get reviews I don't get the motivation and you don't get the story, and since seven of you are officially following it, I think it's safe to assume that you want it to keep going, right? So good or bad, tell me what you thought of it. Do you want me to put in a cute little fluff moment? It'll probably happen! Just give me your compliments, criticisms, and ideas. It really makes my day. That was a really long author's note, sorry. Bye friends.**


	5. Broken

**Trigger warning, talk of depression and suicide. Same as last time but a little more in depth. Like really seriously please don't read this if it could be triggering to you, your well being is more important than the story.**

* * *

Jean blinked his eyes open to find himself face to face with none other than Eren the cat. It was so startling that he jumped backwards, hitting his head on the corner of the couch painfully. It took him a second to even register where he was and why that blasted fur ball was here. "What the hell, give me some space." He grumbled, shoving the little brown cat away from him carelessly. It didn't feel like moving apparently, because it just sat down, right out of his reach and watched him. Damn cat. What was its problem anyway? "Why are you looking at me like that? I saved your owner. What more do you want?"

The cat meowed loudly, but walked away, tail swishing back and forth like it was annoyed with him. This is why he hated cats, they always acted so superior. He'd like to see them try to pick up a pencil, the thumbless little bastards.

He looked back over to the couch, where Armin's head had become a complete mess of blonde hair. He had never seen it so messy, and he wondered if he was one of those people who could just run their fingers through it and have it look all nice. He rand one hand throughout it in an attempt to flatten it out, and was pleased to find that his suspicion was correct, and to top it off it was as soft as he had imagined that it would be last night. Not that he had actually _imagined_ it, but he had thought that it was probably soft. It looked soft?

Fuck. That little asshole had made him think gay thoughts. He _wasn't_ gay. That would be ridiculous. It would imply that he had time to think about his sexuality, which he definitely didn't. He _did_ have time to make some breakfast though, and he was starving, so it seemed like a good idea to get that started. If he actually had to cook something he might even save some for Armin in a totally not gay gesture of common decency.

* * *

It looked like all the breakfast food they had in the kitchen (at least, the stuff that sounded easy and good or really made any sense at all to him) was pancake mix, so he decided to go with that. He sincerely hoped that Armin liked pancakes too, because he accidentally got way too much of the batter and was too lazy to even attempt to get any of it back in the box. Maybe they could eat pancakes for lunch. No sooner than he had poured the mix into the bowl and measured out the proper amount of water, the shorter boy came into the room.

"Oh god, you're making us breakfast. Don't you think that's kinda my job, you know, being the host and all." He groaned, grabbing a carton of orange juice out of the fridge. He walked over to the cupboard where Jean had found the glasses a few minutes ago when he had searched the kitchen for a mixing bowl and a pan, and pulled out a small plastic glass. "Not that I invited you over or anything, you did that yourself. Very rude thing to do, by the way." He continued, pouring himself a glass and then shrugging and getting a second. "Wait a second, I didn't invite you over last night, did I? I really don't think I did."

Of course he didn't remember it. "No, you didn't. I was a good samaritan and decided to help you in your time of need. You're welcome." He took a swig of the orange juice that he presumed was for him. Who else could it have been for, the cat? "So, how much do you remember from last night?"

"Well, we were walking home, and it looks like we got here okay. You let me sleep on the couch, which is very chivalrous of you by the way, and it looks like we stole blankets and stuff from my room." His face turned all pink and he didn't seem to be able to make eye contact, not that that was unusual for him. "Did I try to…" He trailed off, his face turning even more red. "You know…. Do anything while we were in there?"

Jean didn't really want to deny it, in case it came up later somehow and Armin discovered that he had been lying and thought way more happened than what really did. Instead of just saying no or pretending not to know what he was talking about, he pretended to be very absorbed in his task of stirring all the lumps out of the batter with his fork. "Ah, well it was nothing. You just kissed me and you didn't really know what was going on anyway so it was no big deal."

As it seemed, that had been a bad decision. The blonde sunk to the floor, leaning against the counter with his legs curled up to his chest and his face in his hands. "Oh my god."

"Hey, really it's fine. I've had lot's of experience with drunk people. You had zero boundaries at the time, it didn't mean anything. Besides, I told you to stop and you did right away. That's a lot more than can be said for a lot of people." He poured a little bit of the batter out onto the pan as he spoke, attempting to calm him with his words of wisdom.

That made Armin cover his whole head up. "Oh my _god._" it was muffled by his body, but still distinguishable, and Jean almost had to stifle his laughter. He was sort of cute when he was all flustered. Like in an adorable little puppy way, of course. _  
_

It seemed like a good time to change the subject now though. "So…" He was sort of hesitant to even talk about it, but he had to know, and it would certainly get Armin out of his current state of embarrassment over kissing him. "Why did you want to… You know. Why were you at the bridge?" He turned away to check the pancake and see if it was ready to flip. It wasn't, but he didn't look at Armin. He wanted to offer him what privacy he could what with them being in the same room. The silence stretched on for a moment and he added. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but we have to do it at some point. Whenever you're ready for it, okay?"

"Well that won't be for a while then." He sounded more embarrassed than before, if that was even possible, but there was a sort of cold distance to it as well. Not that it mattered really, he would be fine. Jean wasn't letting him out of his sight, not for a while anyway. They could talk about it after breakfast or after lunch, whenever it was most convenient. He didn't really know how long he would stay with him. He still had all of today and the rest of the weekend to do anything, and it wasn't as if they could go over to _his_ house.

They just sort of stayed like that for a while, the silence stretching out between them until all the pancake batter was gone and Jean had a plate full of pancakes. "Take all you want, I'll eat the rest. He told Armin, as he walked to the sink to rinse his hands off. He had already separated out enough for later, and if the blue eyed boy left too many he could set them aside as well. His hands weren't dirty per say but they had a little bit of the batter on them and he didn't really want to eat his breakfast with sticky pancake hands.

"Jean, I'm sorry for being rude to you. I have no right to do that, you've been nothing but nice to me." He had walked up behind him while the water was running, and leaned his head on his shoulder, as that seemed to be the perfect height for him. It startled Jean nearly enough to send the two plates Armin was holding flying as he whipped around, but Armin stepped away quickly enough to avoid him. Not that that really made him feel any better. That kind of thing only came with practice, and he didn't like to think about Armin having to move out of the way of flying objects or fists sent his way. He knew it happened, he'd have to be blind not to see it, but it would be nice not to be reminded all the time. "Sorry, that was my fault. I should have made more noise walking over here." Armin looked down almost like he was ashamed and held out a plate for Jean.

"No, I'm just a little jumpy sometimes. Thank you." He was trying to be nicer. More sensitive to his problems and stuff, but he felt like his kindness seemed really fake most of the time. He just wasn't used to it. "Plus, I've actually been kind of a dick to you these past few weeks. I mean it was on, purpose and I did try not to be outright mean, but I was still a dick."

That seemed to spark something in Armin. "Why were you being a dick to me on purpose? what kind of person does that?" He didn't sound too angry and Jean assumed that he was half past caring. More curious than hurt. He couldn't blame him, why would someone be a dick to someone on purpose unless they wanted to be outright mean? It wasn't exactly a normal situation.

"Well…" He felt like he shouldn't mention Mikasa's name for some reason. "A… Uh.. A person told me that I should't be friends with you… If I was going to move again." He stumbled out. "They said you couldn't lose another friend."

"Oh, so Mikasa threatened you." It wasn't even a question. "Why does she care what hurts me? I haven't talked to her in almost a year. I killed her brother." He got out the syrup and dumped it angrily over his pancakes, which was simultaneously adorable and heartbreaking. After a second or two, and way more syrup than he need ed he set down the bottle, looking tired and defeated. "I don't want her to care about me, Jean."

"Armin, she's not mad at you. She doesn't blame you for any of it. And besides, she's not the only one who cares. Marco does too."

"Marco cares too much for his own good. You can't seriously expect him to influence my decisions any, can you? I mean Marco probably cares about _you_ and you've only known him a few weeks." He argued. "I don't mean that in a mean way or anything, but he starts caring fast and he doesn't really stop, no matter what."

"He cared enough to notice something was wrong on Thursday." Jean pointed out, as if it made any difference. It was true enough, what Armin said. He knew it himself, even though he was new here. Marco cared about everyone. He was just that kind of person.

"So did you, but you don't care about me." Armin took a bite of pancake, watching him.

"No, I just pulled you from the edge of a bridge because I thought it would be a workout and thought I might as well mooch off of your plentiful food while I was at it. Really Armin, of course I care about you." He tried to keep the anger out of his voice. He knew Armin wasn't just acting like this for the fun of it, no more than Jean had come here to mooch what he could from the guy. Still, it was infuriating to see someone so…. He didn't know the right word for it. Armin was cute, and smart, and good at everything. Well, except maybe sports, but those didn't even matter to anyone. How could he just throw that all away? How could he think no one cared?

"First of all, you didn't know it was me when you pulled me back. Plus, you're mad at me right now. Why would you be mad unless I called you out on the truth?" He looked around and then seemed to give up, just sliding to the floor, sitting cross legged as he ate his pancakes.

It was hard to believe. "I'm mad at you because you want to throw all this away." He gestured openly around him. "You have a mom who loves you and cares about you. She asked me to look out for you, did she tell you that? You have a girl who you don't even talk to, who threatened to beat me up if I hurt you. You have a nice house, a fancy freaking cat! You are good at _everything_ and you're a genius, but you think it's worthless and you just want to escape." He set his pancakes down on the counter, getting down on one knee to look Armin in the eye. "You have no idea what I would give to have this. Yeah, Eren died. It's hard to lose someone you love, I know that, but you can't just give up. Not when you have this much going for you."

That seemed to make Armin livid. "You think I don't know all of that? That I don't know I'm being a selfish asshole? I would love to give all of this to someone. Hell, if you want it so much then I wish I could give it to you. I CAN'T HANDLE THIS." It was the first time he had heard Armin yell, and it caught him off guard. "Why do you think I tried to make them stop caring? Why do you think I waited until my parents were out of town? Why do you think I chose a bridge instead of doing it here where there was no way someone would stop me? I DON'T WANT TO HURT THEM! I DIDN'T WANT MOM AND DAD TO COME HOME AND FIND MY BODY. I WANTED IT TO BE AS PAINLESS AS POSSIBLE FOR EVERYONE."

"WELL MAYBE IT WOULD BE LESS PAINFUL IF YOU DIDN'T DO IT!" Jean glared at him, his amber eyes narrowed. "You can pretend to be selfless. That you try not to hurt anyone unless you have to, but the point still stands. If you would just toughen up and deal with it then no one would have to be hurt at all. You're a selfish little bastard and you don't deserve anything that you have."

"Maybe that's true, but I think you deserve exactly what you have. You're a cruel selfish prick who only cares about himself." Armin replied steadily, his face contorted in rage. "I know that you're poor. You don't have anything, and maybe that's how you're always going to be. It would certainly be fitting."

Jean almost lost his temper and punched him right there. Instead, he stood up and left the room. He was too angry to be helpful right now. He knew he had taken it too far. He had been outright mean, and he really shouldn't have, given the situation. Armin was fragile right now. Still, he hadn't exactly expected any form of retaliation. Armin had gone too far as well. Maybe even more so. It didn't matter, none of it did. Armin wasn't himself. Nothing that happened right now mattered at all. He needed to be patient with him. Try to be nice all the time and make sure it didn't seem like he was trying to be mean. Of course, kindness and patience were two of his weaker points. Having him talk someone out of suicide was like choosing Christa to get something off the top shelf at the store. He was more likely to drive him to it. He flopped down into one of the arm chairs in the living room, his appetite gone.

Of course, as usual Armin's self loathing made him think that Jean had done nothing bad enough to deserve the way he yelled at him, and he came out to the living room ready to apologize before even five minutes could have passed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You're just trying to help, and you're getting irritated with me. I get really annoying sometimes and I'm sorry, I won't yell at you again."

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't lose my temper with you, you aren't yourself." Jean countered. They both had enough to be sorry for.

"Well I'm not someone else." He looked out the window, lost in that same world that he so often was when Jean looked at him. He wondered what sort of thoughts filled his mind at times like that. Surely not happy ones, that would be too much to expect. Maybe he thought about death, or maybe it was Eren. Maybe it was both, and it really was a happy thing, because they would be together in thoughts like that. It wasn't exactly his idea of happy, but it could be Armin's.

"I promise not to yell at you again if you tell me what's up." Jean conceded. It was hard for him, agreeing not to let his anger through. It was his first reaction to anything he found upsetting, and as much as he knew that was bad, letting it go sounded almost impossible. Still, he would try, for Armin's sake. Yelling would make things worse than they already were, and they were bad enough as it was. He needed to be comforting.

"That sounds somewhat agreeable. Not exactly perfect or anything, but I have a feeling that it's the best deal I'm going to get." He glanced at Jean out of the corner of his eye, quirking his lips up into what was as close to a real smile as anything he had seen today.

"Well, you're gonna have to tell me at some point, otherwise I'll never leave." He quipped, watching Armin plop himself down on the edge of the couch that was closest to was nice to see that little glimmer of happiness, even if it was fake or temporary. It was like a ray of sunlight after a week of rain, and he hoped to keep it there as long as possible.

"Oh, in that case let me explain as quickly as possible." He giggled. It was nice to hear that giggle again, it was so rare now. "I'm just kidding, you can stay all day if you really want to. I mean, at this point it seems sort of stupid to try anything, you would stop me. I'm not promising I won't ever try again, but not this weekend."

"That's so comforting."

"But really, I'm serious Jean. You can't just expect this to change anything in the long run. Anyway, if you don't mind I was going to start my little story." He held up a hand before Jean could object. "As you know, Eren died last year. That was what set me off I guess. It was sort of my fault, he was coming to get me from that stupid forensics thing. I know that no one else blames me, but I do and that's what really matters. If no one knows that you got your leg chopped off but you, it won't make it grow back." It was a surprisingly good analogy that stopped Jean's argument before it could leave his mouth. "Basically he was dead to the world for three days, but on the last night he woke up. That happens sometimes with people, they wake up before they die. Like their body gives up and stops using all the energy to try to heal them, so they are able to regain consciousness. I don't know the whole thing, but that's as best as I can explain it."

Jean resisted the urge to laugh. Armin was still trying to explain how things happened even when talking about his dead, or at the time dying, friend. It was funny in a sort of morbid way. But then, the only way he could ever think that is by being the scum of the Earth, and he sort of was. His thoughts once again fell to Marco. Why couldn't he have been the one here instead? He would be so much better at this sort of thing. But thinking about that wouldn't change anything, so he pushed it from his mind so that he could actually listen without making an ass of himself for once.

"Anyway, he woke up, and he was pretending he was just fine. That was probably the worst part, because I wanted so badly to believe him, but the doctors had already told us that there was almost no chance that he would survive. It would have been too lucky to believe, for him to make it. He kept that up for a while though, and I almost decided to just trust him about it. He was always so strong willed, maybe if he wanted it bad enough then he would just live. Maybe he could actually be too stubborn to die. It would have been nice if that were true." He shook his head silently. "I guess I knew deep down that it wasn't going to happen though, because when he started saying goodbye to us I wasn't surprised. I was sad, but not surprised. He looked right at me and told me that none of it was my fault, and that he was a terrible driver to begin with, so it was inevitable." Jean couldn't help but remembering Mikasa say the exact same words, and he wondered for a moment if he was telling the truth. Maybe she wanted to believe it so badly that she just started pretending it was true. That or he really was bad. "He said he loved us both and that if either of us died too soon after him then he would bring us back to life so he could kill us again. He was always like that, rude and aggressive, but in a nice way. I begged him not to go, but it was too late and it wasn't like he could have stopped it anyway. He told me that I would have to get along without him now. Mikasa told him that she would take care of me, and he smiled at her." He focused his gaze on the ground, probably trying not to start crying. "That was the last thing he did. I took up all of that time, he didn't hardly get to talk to her. She was his sister, Jean. I took up all that time from his _sister_."

"Armin, you didn't know he was going to die right then, no one did. She would never be mad at you for that." He didn't really know that, Mikasa seemed quick to anger, honestly. Still, with the way she seemed to care about him it might be that she was incapable of being mad at Armin. It seemed possible.

"Anyway," The boy continued, ignoring him. "Ever since then it's been different. Of course it would be different, without him. He's been there for as long as I can remember him. I have more memories with him than my own parents. It's so hard, waking up each day and knowing I'll never see his face again. Knowing that he might not even have a face any moor. It's been almost a year, if it's not rotting right now it's because he's already done. The thing is, people used to talk to me when he was around, because they thought he was cool, so I was too as an extension of him. No one wanted to talk to me after it happened. Maybe they were afraid of bringing him up. Maybe I just wasn't interesting without him. It didn't really matter, at least they left me alone for the most part. Even when Eren was alive I would get beaten up, but for a while no one laid a hand on me. I guess people pitied me too much. It would be like beating up someone who was crippled. Unfair. Their pity wore off though, and before long it was back to normal. Well, sort of normal. People still didn't talk to me, but they were fine with beating me up. I didn't fight back. I never did, but now it was different. Everything was always different. I let them beat me up because I thought I deserved it, not because I was too scared to fight back. People started hating me. They knew I was gay, of course, and they would make fun of me all the time. They would say that I must be sad, with my boyfriend being dead. That was probably the worst thing. I loved him like a brother. Even thinking that we were…"

He trailed off and short silence followed, the only sound being a tired sigh from Armin.

"It was revolting. Luckily summer came though, and I was left alone. Too alone. No one called or texted, no one wanted to hang out with me. I was the broken one, I was fragile, the only good reason to be around me was to hurt me, and they weren't exactly going to call and ask a time and place to beat me up again. I would have killed myself back then, but my mom thought redecorating might be good for me, and that at least gave me something to live for. Getting rid of the spaces that reminded me of him and giving me something to occupy my time. It helped for a while, but now it just makes me sadder. All those things that reminded me of him are gone. Besides, it was more expensive then mom would admit, and it put a big dent in their retirement fund. I wish we hadn't done it now. After that was finished I just asked Marco to hang out. He was too nice to say no, and he kept me out of the house. It was nice, having someone around ilk that. Someone to confide in. It wasn't the same, but it was better than the rest of the summer had been, and it made mom happy to see me socializing. The thing is, everyone loves Marco, but he made sure to make time for me, even with everything he had going on. Of course, then I realized that we were starting to be friends, and at first that made me happy, but then I remember what happened to Eren and how it was all my fault and that could happen to Marco too. I stopped talking to him then. I think he thought that he did something wrong, but I couldn't tell him the real reason. He would worry about me, and I'm not worth worrying about. I'd rather him go through a week or so of uncertainty than who knows how long of worry."

Jean didn't bother objecting. Armin wouldn't believe that he was worth worrying about even if he did, so he might as well just wait until he was finished before trying. It was sad really, seeing someone like him this broken. Maybe Marco did start caring too fast, but Armin was hard not to care about. Jean made an effort never to care about anyone, and Armin had managed to work his way past all that. It didn't even have that much to do with Claire and Mikasa, he was pretty sure that even without them he would care a little, and this whole mess was certainly enough to make him care if he hadn't already.

"That's when I knew what I had to do. I couldn't keep making people care about me. I couldn't keep hurting them like that. I was being selfish staying here. So I started making plans. I could just crash my car. It would look like an accident that way. But deep down I knew I wasn't strong enough for that. Not after Eren. I'm scared of driving as it is, and I'm so overcautious that it might not look that accidental anyway. So what was my next option? Cutting myself was too messy, plus it would hurt. I mean, I've done it before, don't get me wrong, but not that deep. I don't think I could make myself go even close to deep enough, and then once again we have all that mess. I don't want mom and dad to have to clean that up. Of course, that meant shooting myself was completely out of the question, although I think that would be easiest. I had it down to three choices. I could overdose, hang myself, or jump off a bridge. I eliminated hanging pretty fast though, strangling just seemed too unpleasant. Too slow. I'm not exactly tough, and even if I let people hurt me, it doesn't mean I could inflict that much pain on myself. I hadn't officially decided how or when I would do it until dad told me he would be out of town. I convinced mom to go with him and I decided on last night. I didn't want to have too long to reconsider. That being the case, I didn't want to overdose though. I didn't want them to have to find me decaying, or even partially eaten. Eren learned how to open doors and he's a cat so meat is meat to him. So that's it. I would jump. Maybe if no one noticed my body might even get to the ocean. It's not _that_ far, and I always wanted to see the ocean. Not that I would see it if I was dead, but it would be sort of poetic I guess. Me and Eren talked about it since before they even adopted Mikasa. Like it or not, I do have a certain appreciation for that sort of thing. Plus, I'm the only one left who really even knows about it, so no one else would think anything of it. I don't want them to think I'm that much of a pretentious douchebag. I planned out everything. I even told Marco that I was going to be out of town and asked him If he could come by and check on the cat every night, so he wouldn't starve." He glanced up from the floor for a moment and added. "I already told him that it got cancelled so he didn't need to come, if you're worried about that."

He was right, Jean was worried about that. He didn't want Marco to just drop by and assume that something was going on between them. Not that it would matter if he did, given the situation that should be the last thing on his mind. This whole thing was more important to him, even if his wandering mind was trying to prove him otherwise.

"Anyway, I didn't plan on you being there, so none of it really matters. I failed. I'm still here, making people care, being selfish. I deserve to die. I really do, but you won't just let me." Armin bit his lip, tears finally starting to flow. To be perfectly honest, Jean was surprised that he had lasted this long without breaking down. He supposed he might just be too far gone to care. Not really sad about his own misfortune anymore. "Why can't you just let me go? You know what happened now, so if it's because you feel bad then you should really feel worse keeping me here. You heard what I told you, I want to die."

"I can't just let you give up. You'll make it past this. You have to just keep going, Eren would want you to keep going. He said he didn't want you to die early himself, didn't he?" Jean knew it was a little risky, bringing up Eren's wishes. He hadn't known the guy, and he didn't want it to seem like he was being presumptuous.

"He would want me to be happy, that's what he would want, and if being happy means dying and being with him, then he would be okay with it. He wouldn't prefer for me to suffer. He wasn't like that." Armin mumbled, half to himself.

"He wouldn't want you to leave Mikasa all alone though, would he? He cared about her too, and like it or not she still cares about you. She needs you Armin, even if you don't talk to her. She needs to protect you, it makes her feel like she has some sort of value as a person. She let Eren down, but she won't do the same to you. If you go through with this you'll devastate her."

"You don't know anything about her. She would be better off without me here." Armin argued, turning away. The tears still dripped down his face, though he tried to hide it.

"You know that I'm right. Mikasa would break. She's being strong for you right now. And even if you don't care about her, think of Marco. He would blame himself. He already thinks that whatever made you stop hanging out with him was his fault. What would he do? How do you think he would feel, knowing that he spent all that time feeding a dead boy's cat, and never even thinking something might be wrong. How do you think he would feel? What if it made him feel the same way that you do now? Would you feel nothing, seeing him like that?" He got up from his place in the armchair and walked over to the couch sitting beside the other boy, so small and helpless. "You're important to people, Armin. You really are. I know you don't believe it. Hell, maybe you don't even want to, but you are, and you can make it through this."

Armin looked back at him with those sad blue eyes, brimming with tears. The redness from the crying made the blue even more obvious, and he mentally slapped himself for even noticing that. He was comforting him, not admiring his beauty. Still, he wasn't expecting it when Armin leaned into him for a hug, holding him tightly as though he were some sort of anchor. Jean hugged him back of course, and together they sat there, one boy crying and one boy just doing his best to provide some sort of comfort. He had finally been broken out of his shell of indifference, forced to feel and to care by this one small unassuming little boy. It was a new and bizarre feeling, and honestly it scared the shit out of him, but he had to be here. He had to do it for Armin.

* * *

**And now you have the final piece in my originally meant to be mega-chapter. I realize there are a couple of plot holes, which I will try to explain. First of all, why has Mr. Kirschtein not noticed that his son is gone? Well, he's a very busy man, and sort of a dick. As long as the police don't show up to tell him that Jean is dead/in trouble with the law he doesn't really care what he does. Plus, Jean is an early riser who likes walking so that seems a reasonable possibility for where he is. Second problem, why is Eren's dad not at the hospital? Well we know his mom is dead (she is, I'm like 90% sure I confirmed that but if I didn't then there you have it.) His dad, much like in the real deal, is kind of absent. He travels around, and doesn't particularly care about his children, especially now that his wife died. He visits for like five minutes every day, so he was just not there. Armin's parents aren't there because they aren't family and they feel it might be an intrusion. Anyway, I hope you like it, and as with last time REVIEW because I could cut it off here but if you don't want me to then I could go further and we could get some fluff in here. I have more plotted but I'm just not sure if anyone is interested. Please tell me if you are or are not I need to know. Hope you all liked the chapter, and have an nice day/night!**


	6. Kate & Leopold

**Trigger warning, mentions of self harm. Much less bad stuff than the past three chapters.**

* * *

It was hard to judge how long they sat there like that. Armin kept trying to stop his tears, which resulted in the space between them becoming unbearably hot. It seemed ridiculous that anyone could reach such a high temperature without being lit on fire, but Armin was full of unpleasant surprises. Maybe it was too much to hope for there not to be more, but even if there were, it wasn't as if it could get much worse. Not without it involving murder or something, and he sort of doubted that.

He was pulled from his thoughts and concerns when he felt a pair of hands on his stomach, pushing him away forcefully. "Why are you doing this? Why even bother?"

He forced himself to be patient, even though he wanted to scream. They had already been through this, why did he have to keep repeating it? Was it because he wanted to be reassured? There must be some way to do it besides this. He should be more sensitive. No, Jean knew that it was him that should be more sensitive. "Because I want you to get better. Why are you so determined to die?"

"Because I'm past hoping. This has been going on too long and nothing helps. Nothing _ever_ helps. I know you're trying, but you need to understand that this doesn't change anything. I can't keep doing this same old thing every day and expecting something to change, that's insane. I'm ready to get it over with." His voice rose as he spoke, either in frustration and hysteria. He didn't know him well enough to be able to tell which it was, but it worried him more than ever.

"How do you know that nothing helps? What have you even tried?"

"Plenty of things."

"Sounds pretty secretive. Why don't you actually tell me instead of deflecting my questions? What are you hiding? What could possibly be worse than trying to kill yourself?" He demanded, shoving him back against the arm of the couch. He was sort of losing his ability to control his temper, but at the moment he was too angry to care. He didn't like people keeping things from him. In fact he hated it almost as much as he hated people lying to him. Especially when either of those things put someone's well being at risk.

Armin drew his arms in front of himself protectively, but his face didn't show an ounce of fear. It was something more like surprise, or confusion. Disbelief. "You mean you haven't figured it out?"

"Figured what out?"

"Well I guess it isn't anything worse than what you already know, but..." He paused, confused. "I don't really feel comfortable talking about this."

"I don't feel comfortable not talking abut this."

"Why don't we talk about you? I don't know anything about you. Where are your parents? You would think they'd be concerned about you not coming home from your walk, so why have they not called?"

Jean felt the urge to slap him, not for the first time, but instead he punched the couch. "THIS ISN'T ABOUT ME YOU ASS, TELL ME WHAT YOU DID."

"I've just shared my most personal thoughts and feelings with someone I just met a few weeks ago. I don't even know you. Why should I tell anything at all? That's how you get murdered."

Jean let out an aggravated sigh, clenching his jaw. "Fine. My dad hasn't called because he has to work at night. He starts at four o'clock and gets off at five. He probably hasn't noticed that I'm gone yet, and when he does he'll assume I'm out."

"Then why hasn't your mom called?"

"Well it's sort of hard to make phone calls from the grave, so I imagine that has something to do with it." He responded, his voice filled with sarcasm. Then he realized that it sort of sounded bad that way and added. "She died five years ago, but if she was alive she wouldn't call anyway. If I'm gone then maybe I won't come back. She won't have to pay for me that way." It wasn't better, and more pitiable, which he hated. Still, it didn't make him sound angry at Armin for bringing it up and let him know that it wasn't that big a deal to him because they had never been close anyway.

"I'm sorry, what happened to her?"

"What usually happens to alcoholics. Her... Problem caught up with her. Alcohol poisoning. Can't say I was really surprised about it." He shrugged. It wasn't like he didn't care about it or anything, but he had sort of gotten over it. They had always hated each other anyway. But the look on the blond's face told him that it hadn't sounded that way. "It really isn't a big deal, she hated me and wanted me out of the house. I outlasted her. I mean it's sort of like I won."

Definitely the wrong explanation.

Armin looked horrified, and Jean stumbled over his words in his haste to make it sound less horrible. "I mean not like I won but I still get to live somewhere and that's nice, right?" He attempted casual humor before sighing and shaking his head. "Never mind, I don't have to justify my wording to you. I've told you what's up with my parents, now tell me what's so terrible."

"First of all, it isn't that bad comparatively, it's just embarrassing. Second of all, I really want to know more about you. You're all interesting and mysterious."

"You're just using that as a bargaining chip now, aren't you?" Jean glared at him. His anger was wearing off, quickly being replaced by annoyance and irritation.

"Yeah, but if you're staying the weekend, and it's sort of looking that way, then we might as well know about each other. You already know about me, so that's taken care of. I just want to make it more mutual." Armin shrugged, straightening up to sit cross legged opposite Jean in a way that reminded him strongly o how a teenage girl might pose in a magazine. Damn that kid. It's like he did these things on purpose.

"Well there isn't much to know. I'm an only child, my mom is dead, and my dad works a lot. We move all the time because we can't afford to keep up on rent. I think being poor is embarrassing but you already know that part and obviously you don't care about it. I try to get good grades so that I won't be poor forever. That's it, nothing very interesting." He huffed, scooting back to sit wit his back against the other arm of the chair. He might as well get comfortable, this might last a while.

"Finding out about you is like pulling teeth." Armin shook his head, looking him over with an expression of concentration. Finally he seemed to come up with an answer to whatever question was on his mind. "How about your hair? It's obviously bleached on the top and it's pretty well groomed, so you must get it cut regularly. If you're lacking money, then why get a hairstyle that would be so expensive to maintain?"

"It distracts from my clothes, I guess. It looks like it takes money to maintain, so no one really thinks that the reason for all of this" He gestured down at his worn clothing. "Is a stylistic choice, or possibly my not wanting to go shopping for clothes. Plus, it isn't actually expensive. I do it all myself, I have one of those little clipper things, a cheap one. And I don't even use real hair dye, peroxide works fine. I don't waste money." He put emphasis on that last sentence, as though it was a huge indicator of his character, and it was, in a way.

"So you care about how people perceive you?" Armin inquired, his voice filled with surprise.

"Yeah, I do. What, is that something remarkable? Don't you care what people think of you?" His defensive tone was back, as he glowered at his host, clearly confused and irritated with the way he was acting.

"You care about your grades, and your education. You put every fiber of your being toward making sure you can get somewhere in life, right? Well see that's what I thought, but it looks like it can't be the case. That's your primary objective, so to speak. But the thing is that you have a secondary objective too. You want people to think well of you. See, you have this deep seated need to be liked. Maybe it's because your mom never liked you, who knows. Either way it takes up a lot of the time and energy that you could be using for more productive thing. You have a very strong sense of pride, which is why you don't like having things handed to you. You also have some sense of honor and morals, which is why you continue this whole looking out for me thing, and why you try to push people away without actually hurting them. You're an interesting person, whether you care to admit it or not." Armin finished, mildy. Like his little speech was something normal or even acceptable.

"You can tell all that from my hair?" Jean growled, bitterly. "Maybe you should become a detective."

"Your hair and your behavior. I'm pretty good at deductions." Armin explained, choosing to disregard Jean's second statement.

"Which is basically a shorter way of saying that you make wild assumptions about people based on minuscule little bits and pieces that you do know. What if I decided to start doing a psychological analysis on you, huh?"

"And you also have terrible social skills because you've never stayed in one place long enough to form attachments or to learn how people are the same, or different, and how to interact without pushing them away. It's instinct for you. You couldn't make a real friend if you tried." Armin replied, viciously.

"You're a bloody bastard, you know that? I'm being a good person here, I'm helping you, and you insult me. Repeatedly. I'd say that you've given up on friendship entirely, you think that it isn't worth it with Eren gone."

"I think it isn't worth it because I don't plan on living much longer, which we've already been over. Sorry for offending you, I just get carried away sometimes. Plus you've got that whole dark and mysterious thing that makes me want to figure out why you do what you do. I mean pulling me off the bridge was obviously a panicked decision, but taking me home and staying the night, that was obviously honor."

"What are we, knights?" Jean scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.

There was a brief pause in which Armin scowled at the other boy, presumably peeved about having his theory insulted, however indirectly. "I want to see your house."

"Well we don't always get what we want in life." Jean sneered, turning away. Obviously he didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Yeah, but you need fresh clothes, and you aren't wanting to leave my side. Our current options are going to your house, or buying new stuff. I mean, I do have money, and I'm willing to buy you new clothes if you need them, but you wouldn't be willing to accept that would you? So that leaves going to your house. It's not like anything here would fit you, I gave you Eren's clothes." Armin argued, a smug smile on his face. There wasn't really a way out of this for Jean, and Armin knew it

"You're manipulating me. You know, threatening me with killing yourself is about as low as you get." He pointed out, hopefully. It was unlikely to change the situation, but maybe it would be possible to shame him out of this.

"I'm not threatening or manipulating anything. You just don't trust me not to kill myself while you're gone. If anything it's rude of you to have so little faith in me." He smirked confidently, somehow managing to look bigger, despite his slight frame.

Jean let out a sigh of resignation, rolling his eyes. "Fine, you win." He conceded, with a shake of his head.

Armin giggled excitedly, nearly bouncing out of his seat in his enthusiasm. "So I get to see your house?"

"Yes, you get to see my house."

* * *

"Wow, it's like a shed."

"Shut the hell up Armin." Jean was already regretting his decision to let him come here, and they hadn't even gone inside yet. How was he supposed to explain this to his dad? He should be getting up right about now, so his going inside wouldn't go inside. How was he supposed to justify taking clothes for the whole weekend without actually explaining the situation. He couldn't just say, 'Oh, some kid I hardly know is suicidal so I'm watching him to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid' that would not only be rude to Armin, but also guarantee more questions from his father.

"Well it is. That doesn't affect my judgement of you, if that makes you feel any better. It was just an observation about a building. Nothing to get testy over." Armin's voice interrupted his thoughts, and as was becoming normal now, made him ready to burst with annoyance.

"We're only here because of you, so I would appreciate it if you would just stop talking and stay outside. Is that going to be too difficult for you?"

"Why do I have to stay outside?"

"Because I'm going to tell dad that I'm spending the night at a friend's house, and if he sees you then he'll assume that we're fucking. Now if he thinks you're a girl, then that's fine, but if he can tell that you're really a guy and thinks that I'm gay, then that's a problem."

"I take offense to like ninety percent of what you just said. First of all, why would he assume that? Do I just look like a slut or something, second of all why is it such a big deal if he thinks you're gay? Keep in mind that I am an actual gay, and I have actual problems with that and that you're on thin ice with this subject."

"He'll assume that because if I'm spending the night at a girl's house, then what else could I possibly be doing? And because as soon as he sees you if he knows you're a boy, then he'll assume you're gay and he'll think 'why the hell would a straight boy be willing to spend the night with a gay one? What if you try to have sex with me? I mean personally I think that mindset is ridiculous, but that's how he thinks. It would be a problem because dad is extremely homophobic and I do have to live with him after this weekend."

"So you really are straight, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't, I was just curious. I haven't actually met anyone who's gay, or at least no one who's been willing to tell me. I just want to check. You know, share stories about similar experiences. I don't really care about anything else, if that's what you're afraid of. If anything it would make my current emotional state more precarious, and I'm better without that."

"You've got a pretty good head on your shoulders, don't you kid?"

"Isn't that a weird phrase?"

"I guess so." Jean answered, distractedly. If he didn't go in soon then his dad would start wondering what the unfamiliar car was doing outside. "Okay, I'm gonna get the clothes, I'll be back in a few minutes."

* * *

Jean was able to throw a couple of shirts and pairs of pants before his father walked in. Mr. Kirschstein was a tall man. He had Jean's natural brown hair, and beady black eyes. His body was lean and muscular, much like his son's, but had sustained more abuse over the years; it was mottled with scars and sunspots. He stepped around the curtain that separated his area from Jean's, stinking as he always did, of sweat and chemicals, and eyed his son curiously. "What are you doing?"

It was all he could do not to openly wince. He had been hoping that he might have gone unnoticed, though he knew it was unlikely. "I was just getting some clothes. A friend invited me to stay the night." He explained, standing up from his crouch beside the bed, where he had been finishing up in retrieving his fold able clothes, which included socks and underwear. They rarely had room for a dresser, so that was where he kept things like that. They were out of the way there.

"A friend?" Mr. Kirschtein sounded dumbfounded. "You don't have friends."

Jean held back his temper, deciding that getting in a fight wasn't a good course of action. It was a wonder he had managed to keep it together in this many consecutive angering situations. Sure, if he saw someone on the sidewalk on the way to Armin's car, then the particular wal that they were standing or walking was likely to set him off so bad that he would start a fight, but so far he was doing very well. "Yeah, well I decided it would be beneficial to socialize more. I'm not going to get anywhere in life if everyone hates me." It was partially true, though if he were really trying to accomplish that he would have chosen Marco.

That got him an aggressively irritated sigh from his father. "You and your future nonsense. Have you ever heard of living in the present? You're missing the best years of your life you know. You're going to have to work someday"

"But if I work hard now then I won't have to work as hard when I'm older." Jean argued, unwilling to listen. Just because _his_ life was shitty didn't mean that he would follow in his footsteps. He was smarter and worked harder, if he tried he could do just about anything.

"Unless thongs go wrong." Of course. Of course he would want to have this conversation now, when Jean had things that were actually important to take care of. That's how he liked to do things, he had to disrupt everyone's life all the time. Why couldn't he have faith in his son? Just once, was that too much to ask? He was so determined to crush any smidgen of hope that he had. Well Jean didn't have time for it, not today. They could have this fight some other time.

"Dad, he's waiting outside for me. Can we please talk about this later?" He spat it out harshly, picking up his bag of clothes and storming toward the door without waiting for an answer.

But of course, he got one. "That depends on if we see each other again."

The guilt trip again. It always worked. His dad had to work terrible hours to keep them fed and in a house, but he never let Jean take on any of the burden. He said he didn't want it to disrupt his schoolwork, or put too much pressure on him. Maybe he really did believe in him deep down, he must. Not that it made his behavior that much more acceptable, he could at least be a decent human being and show some support, but still, it was enough to make him feel bad. "Dad-"

The older man just shook his head, giving him what was obviously meant to be an encouraging smile, that somehow made his son feel even worse. "Just go, we can talk some other time. It's not your fault that I work terrible hours."

Except that it sort of was. Still, he chose not to argue. Armin would be wondering what was taking him so long. "See you later, Dad." He waved goodbye and headed out the door to Armin's car, which was parked out on the street because their house didn't have a driveway.

"So does your whole family not like talking, or what? It would take twice as long as that to explain weekend plans to my parents." Armin leaned into the passengers seat, talking loudly out the open window to Jean as he walked to the car. "Although you did say that he doesn't get too worried about you being gone. We come from very different environments, I suppose."

"Yeah, you come from an environment where people can't seem to shut up." Jean grumbled, climbing into the car. "So are we going back to your house, or do you want to do something first?"

"Do something? What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing, I just thought that maybe you would need something. Food or a DVD or whatever. I don't know what you plan to do all weekend." He shrugged, a defensive edge to his voice. It was funny, in an odd sort of way. He didn't want Armin to think he was a moron or something, or that he expected the kid to get him something.

"A movie, huh?" ARmin tipped his head back to look at the roof of the car, thoughtfully. "I might be able to think of one. Have you by chance seen Kate and Leopold?"

Jean shook his head slowly. "No, what is it? It sounds like a chick flick."

"Oh, it is. It's also hilarious and wonderful and just a really good movie in general. You can pick a movie too if you want, but we're totally watching Kate and Leopold. You have no choice." Great. Well, he could deal with it. It was a movie after all, not a death sentence. Maybe he would be bored or annoyed, but when wasn't he bored or annoyed with something?

Speaking of which, Armin was acting strangely cheery. "Hey, why are you so happy? I mean not that it's a problem or anything, but shouldn't you be like dead inside, and bored? I thought that was how people with depression were supposed to be all the time."

The other boy thought about it for a moment and responded. "I guess because I'm making an effort to make you more comfortable. I mean it still feels like someone sucked out everything in my chest cavity with a vacuum, and like there's no hope for me, but smiling and keeping a happy tone of voice is just a matter of acting. And besides, when I'm pretending it helps me forget how I really feel for a little while. It's hard to explain."

"So is that what you're usually doing during school?" It seemed like a reasonable assumption, Armin was usually pretty cheery in the classes they had together. If that was something that he could do, then perhaps it was something he always did.

"Yeah, I guess so." He answered, shifting uncomfortably and trying to avoid eye contact. "Could we please not talk about this right now? It's sort of ruining that whole forgetting part."

"Sorry, I'm just not very good at this whole comforting thing. I've never been through any of that, so I don't know the right things to say." Jean mentally high-fived himself for remembering to be polite. Not that he was doing good at being comforting, that part was very true. He didn't understand Armin. It was like he was from another planet with all the ability to relate to one another.

The blonde waved a hand dismissively, a tiny smile on his face. So tiny that he wondered if he was imagining it. "That's better, really. I'm sick of people saying the exact same thing to get me to cheer up. 'It's a permanent solution to a temporary problem' yeah well excuse me while go kill myself." He groaned dramatically and looked over to Jean, who was looking at him with an expression of alarm. "I meant that figuratively, of course, but literally too I guess. Every time someone says that my suicide risk increases by ten percent. I hate it, I really do."

"And I hate it when you talk about killing yourself, but we can't all get what we want in life, can we? Armin, you need to try to appreciate help when you can get it. Even if it is from someone you hate, or if their exact words drive you crazy. I mean, they want you to be okay. You could at least try to be thankful." He told the other, more aggressively than he would have liked. It was hard not to get angry at that kind of talk, it scared him and he didn't get it at all, and that wasn't a very good combination.

"I do try, but it's hard." Armin objected, his round blue eyes watching Jean frustratedly. "I have to pretend about everything all the time about everything. I have to pretend to be happy and that I like people, and that I don't like people, and that I don't hear or don't mind when people make jokes about killing themselves or about being gay. I hate it and I hate everything and I really just want to stop it."

"Hey, what was it that you wouldn't tell me earlier?" Jean interrupted. He had nearly forgotten about it actually. Maybe it was the whole thing about trying that brought it to mind. "I told you about myself, and now you've seen my house. The deal was that you would tell me now."

Armin hesitated, his mouth slightly open, before cracking one of his smiles that Jean thought were probably fake. "Actually seeing your house was never part of the deal, we just needed to get you some clothes."

"Whatever, I told you about myself then. What would you not tell me?" He persisted, unwilling to let him change the subject again. He was going to find out no matter what.

Armin looked at him with an expression of tired resignation and started to pull up his shirt, not taking it all the way off, but lifting it enough that his stomach was exposed.

Jean felt his face grow red immediatel. "Woah there, I wanted an answer, not for you to strip. What are you doing?"

"Well this_ is_ the answer, if you would just look instead of getting all weird and 'no homo' about it."

"I am not being weird and 'no homo' about it." Jean huffed before looking down at the other boy's side and stomach, which was what he could see from beside him. The skin was covered in scars of varying sizes and ages. Some were old enough to be raised white lines, and others were sunken in different shades of purple. Some were even fresh enough that they were scabbed over, or just deep blood red gashes on his skin.

Jean was horrified. He didn't suppose that it was something he wouldn't have considered as a possibility, but he had never imagined that it would be to this severity. He was speechless, and that wasn't something that happened to him often. "Armin..."

"And see, this is why I don't want to tell you. It isn't as if it's worse than the rest, but it's embarrassing. You're judging me." He jerked his shirt back down roughly and buckled his seat belt, never alowiing his eyes to meet Jean's

"Well yeah, a little bit. I mean how could I not? What I want to know is how this counts as trying something that should help." Jean explained, trying his best to keep his voice even. If he sounded angry then he would never get an explanation.

Even with his efforts, Armin shrank back into the drivers side door. "You don't understand, you said it yourself. You've never been through something like this." He tried to reason. "I mean I know that it's stupid and that I shouldn't do it, I understand that. It's just that I need to. I mean without that I would have been dead last year."

"Okay, it's alright. I'm not mad about it, I understand that I don't understand. Can you just give me a short explanation. If I still don't get it then I'll just say I don't and we can move on." Jean suggested. He wasn't going to be okay with it, that wasn't the case at all, but he wanted to at least try to understand the reason, and Armin was smart, so it was hard to imagine him not having a well thought out reason.

Armin looked at him for a moment that seemed to last forever, probably thinking this through as thoroughly as he could. "Fine then, but you can't get mad at me. Or not openly at least." He warned. "I've been doing this since last year. I guess because Eren dying was all my fault and I feel like I need to be punished for it somehow. I mean I know that no one else blames me for it and that this really isn't the best way to go about it, but it helps me deal with it. Now I'll always be ugly, and plus, it hurts so that makes it better. Better as in worse, you know?"

"Armin, you aren't ugly." Jean objected. He wasn't even lying, he was cute. He was cute enough that Jean could tell he was cute even though he was straight.

"Oh, so you think I could go to bed with some guy and they would think that all this isn't ugly? That anyone would ever accept this and think nothing about it." He eyed him scornfully. "Imagine if you were about to have sex with a girl and she took her shirt off and you saw that. Well, that plus boobs, but you know. It's ugly."

"I guess so. I mean I would ask about it, but I don't think it would totally kill the mood. You know, if the situation were to arise." He offered generously. He wasn't really being honest, as anyone who saw that would probably be more apt to pity him than anything else.

"You say that as if it's unlikely."

"Well I didn't mean it that way-" He objected quickly, hoping to cover up his mistake. Not that he could, but he felt sort of bad. It was pretty obvious that he had zero self confidence, especially when it came to other people liking him in any way.

"No, it is unlikely. Like I said, I've never met a single openly gay person. Just that sort of makes the chances slim, and then there's the part where I look like a girl, which of course isn't overly appealing to a gay man. I mean the whole point of gayness is sort of to not be with a girl, ya know?" He chuckled and started the car, pulling away from the curb. "So we're going to the library to go get those movies and we are going to have a mildly enjoyable night in which we forget all of this and just pretend to be friends having a sleepover or something."

"Are we not friends having a sleepover?" Jean inquired, grinning.

Armin waited until they were at a stop sign before he looked over, yet another example of how he was so constantly overcautious when he was driving. It had been annoying that first day, before he had known why he acted that way. Now it was just sort of sad. "You think we're friends?"

"Well we know everything about each other now, doesn't that sort of put us at that point?"

"I guess it does." He gave a shaky half smile, and pulled away.

* * *

As it turned out, Kate and Leopold was a pretty good movie. How could you really go wrong with an inventor Duke of Albany time traveling to the future on accident? During the whole first part where Leopold tried to save Stuart from falling off a bridge, Armin was tense and awkward, but after that everything went pretty well. The whole scene when he first met the dog made both of them laugh, and the whole diet butter commercial was pretty great too. Really the only thing that would have made it better was if it had a little less romance, but that was just his opinion. It was really a good movie. He got to point out to Armin that he looked just like Meg Ryan, which had earned him a handful of popcorn thrown at his face. Plus, it had both Hugh Jackman and Liev Schreiber, so it was like a Jimmy and Victor reunion. Of course when he said that, he had to explain to Armin that those were the real names of Wolverine and Sabertooth, and when he had no idea who either of those people were they agreed to watch it when Kate and Leopold was over.

As it turned out, Armin had really never seen it, which was sort of sad considering that his best friend had a pair of Deadpool pants and that was the only movie that had him in it. He didn't like it though, too violent and sad for him, apparently, so maybe Eren had just chosen not to watch it with him. That night Jean felt almost like a normal person with real friends. It was a nice feeling.

They didn't get to bed until almost two o'clock in the morning, after they had built a fort from sheets and blankets that was able to span both the couch and some room on the floor. Armin, of course, insisted that Jean take the couch, saying that last night he was too drunk to really argue about it. Jean told him that if he didn't lay on the couch then they would both end up sleeping on the floor. Even after that, it took some convincing to get him to sleep there. But finally after a while they were both laied down, Jean in his nest of pillows and blankets and Armin on the couch witha blanket, as he insisted that he didn't need any pillows. It was peaceful and quiet, and Jean wasn't even sure if Armin was still awake.

"Hey, Armin." He whispered up to the canopy of floral sheets above their heads.

"Yeah, Jean?" Came the equally quiet reply, the voice delicate and sleepy.

"Thank you for being my first friend."

There was only silence for a long moment, and he worried that he had gone too far and made himself sound pitiful, but then came the almost inaudible reply. "Thank you for showing me that things could still be good."

And with that the two boys drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Yay we finally get fluff and happy things! Okay so sorry that took so long, there are two reasons. Number one,, I had to do other more important things, and couldn't find the time to do this for a while, and number two, I had a lot plotted out but it was like holidays and individual moments rather than a storyboard. Yeah so the same thing still holds true to a degree, so reviews about things you want and critiques would be greatly appreciated. Love you all, and thank you guys for encouraging me to continue! Maybe I'll update again sometime next week.**


	7. Carrots and Cancer

**Because this chapter requires no warnings, I would like to take this opportunity to say that although this is a romantic (eventually) story that largely focuses on Armin's mental illness, I am in no way trying to romanticize it. Depression is terrible and not at all romantic and it doesn't make people fall in love with you.**

* * *

Jean woke up in a panic after a dream that must have scared him terribly. He wasn't sure what it had been about exactly. He couldn't remember a single thing about it, which was sort of odd considering that you were supposed to remember dreams that you woke up in the middle of, but apparently that just wasn't how this day was going to work out.

It also wasn't going to involve him going back to sleep, that much was clear. He was never really good at falling back asleep after waking up in the first place, especially in his current state. He felt like he had just run a mile. The main downside to his ungodly waking hours was the amount of time he had to spend not disturbing the other people who were sleeping. There was nothing to do during that time, especially now, what with being at someone else's house that he wasn't super familiar with. He would feel uncomfortable looking for something to do. For some reason, thinking about this made him remember his conversation with Marco on Thursday, and he was struck with the sudden urge to call him. It had been obvious then that the other boy had been worried about Armin. They both had been, really, but now after the whole thing with the cat he might think that something was wrong. It would be nice to let him know somehow that there was nothing to be concerned about.

Jean sat up quietly from his blanket nest, trying not to wake up his host and new friend. He wasn't sure how loud he had been in his sleep. He had been having a nightmare, after all, and according to his dad he would sometimes yell when that happened.

Luckily it looked like this he had been silent this time. Armin was fast asleep, his peaceful expression strangely comforting for some reason. It was never that way when he was awake. Even the drool puddling in the corner of his open mouth was nice to see in a weird way. It let him know that there was at least some times when the other boy wasn't tense and miserable. When he might forget about keeping everything hidden and be completely calm. Despite all that, he was still trying to make himself smaller, unconsciously, of course. He was curled into a ball so tight that he barely took up more than one cushion, with his dumb cat laying on top of his side, curled up into a nearly identical position. Jean couldn't help but wonder what he was dreaming about, if anything, and if the cat made him feel better. Who knew? Maybe naming it after his dead friend let him pretend that it was a piece of him, watching him. Jean thought it sounded awfully corny, but it still seemed plausible.

Careful not to disturb either of them, he left the room. It was lucky, in a way, that he had thought of calling Marco. He really had completely forgotten his intention of telling him how Armin was doing. Marco had given him his phone number on Thursday just in case he needed anything, and while he didn't exactly need anything from him, he figured that the other boy at least deserved a phone call, since Jean's phone didn't really do texts. Stressing out about it wouldn't do him any good. The first place he thought of to go to make the call was the book room/library. It was far enough down the hall from the living room that if he closed the door, his voice probably wouldn't reach the other boy. Through the windows he could see that the sun was just starting to come up, and he hesitated. Calling at this time on a Saturday was sort of rude, but at the same time he wouldn't want to do it once Armin was awake. That would be sort of weird, calling to tell an acquaintance that your mutual friend wasn't in mortal danger right in front of said friend. Besides, it would be way easier and take less explaining if he just left a message instead of having a real conversation, and Marco's ringtone might not be loud enough to wake him up. Then again, it might be. Then again, it might not, and the more he thought about it, the better just leaving a message sounded. That decided it. He picked Marco's number from his contact list and called before he could give himself the chance to change his mind.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. For some reason the repeated ringing filled him with an inexplicable feeling of dread. He had the sudden feeling that something was wrong with Marco, even though he knew that the chances of that were very small. He was asleep, like any sane person would be right now. After the fourth ring, there was a click. "Hello?"

Jean recognized his voice right away. Not that he needed to since he had just called him specifically. Still, it was a very clearly recognizably not voice-mail message voice. "Marco? You're awake?" He didn't really know what to say all of a sudden. He had been planning on that message, and he hadn't come up with a backup conversation for if he actually picked up. What the hell was he doing up at this hour anyway? Oh right, probably being woken up by his phone ringing.

"Yeah? Jean, Are you okay? Why are you calling? It's like four in the morning and it's Saturday, you should be asleep." He sounded more concerned than annoyed, yet another testament to his ridiculous kindness. Did it ever stop with this guy?

"Nah, sleep is overrated." He joked, realizing immediately that that was a really feeble attempt at humor. God he was such a moron. "I just sort of realized that I hadn't called you about Armin yet. I mean I know you were worried about him. We both were. I just wanted to tell you that he's okay and everything so that you wouldn't be concerned." The longer he spoke, the more stupid the whole thing seemed. He couldn't really text on this phone, so calling really had been his only option, but he could have done it some other time. Okay, maybe not. This had been his best option, really, but he still felt like an idiot. "I mean not that you _were_ concerned, but just in case I guess."

He could almost hear him smiling on the other end. "Thank you, Jean. For helping Armin, I mean. Thanks for calling me about it too though, I _was_ worried about him." Now that the initial alarm was gone, Jean could hear that his voice was pretty groggy. It confirmed his suspicion that he had woken up. He couldn't help but feel bad, even if the other boy didn't sound upset about it.

"What makes you think that I helped him?!" Jean asked, baffled. Sure it was true, but how could Marco possibly know about any of that? It wasn't like they had seen each other or anything. Had Armin told him? That seemed unlikely, since he didn't want anyone to worry about him, and telling him probably would have involved some explaining and therefore, concern.

"Well obviously since you know he's okay, you must have seen him. And I assume you helped him out, otherwise you wouldn't know for sure that he was doing okay." He yawned, and Jean was amazed by how clearly he was able to think after being woken up so suddenly. By all rights his brain function should be at about the same level as a rock's right now. "I'm not stupid, I can put things together. Thank you for helping him, he needs a friend." He continued, as though it was perfectly normal. It probably was, for him.

"You know, you're a little scary sometimes." He snorted, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Brilliant, but scary."

There was a brief silence on the other line. "Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you just quote Ron Weasley at me?"

Ha! So he caught it, that was good. He would have been sort of disappointed if he didn't, actually. With all his years of moving, and never making friends, books and movies had been the only sort of companionship he had. Harry Potter had been one of the first of his long string of fictional universes, and by far his favorite. "I did." He answered, the pride clear in his voice.

"You just get better and better, don't you?" There was a funny sound then that Jean thought could have been either a laugh or a snort, and Marco spoke again. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to give you an update so you wouldn't be worried."

"Well there's nothing wrong with me, just so you know."

It was sort of weird how he was able to guess what he was thinking like that. Not that he was concerned anymore, that had been like a ten second panic, but still it was like Marco could sense it. "I didn't think that there was." He lied, making sure to keep his voice even. "Anyway, I'll let you go now. Sorry for waking you up. I mean, I assume that I did."

"Nah, sleep is overrated." Marco told him in what Jean figured to be a pretty perfect imitation of what he had said himself earlier. "See you on Monday."

"Alright, bye." He answered, and then clicked the little red 'end call' button.

Marco. How often did he talk to people on the phone? Were the two of them technically friends? They didn't really have anything in common except for worrying about Armin and apparently a fondness for Harry Potter. so it seemed like Marco must be friends with everyone if that was the case. Either way, a part of him was undeniably very happy to know that everything was okay with him. It was kind of weird really, he couldn't imagine why anything _would_ be wrong, but whatever that deal was with waiting for him to pick him up had gotten him really worked up.

Jean sighed and stood up. He needed a shower, he hadn't gotten one yesterday and he had been wearing the same thing for two full days now. He was starting to feel a little disgusting.

He didn't even have to think about where the bathroom was now, he just went there automatically. He was really getting to know this house well. That was probably to be expected though, after spending a day and two nights here. Of course, he still didn't know where the towels were, since he hadn't taken a shower except for that one time when it had been raining, but Claire had brought him his towel that time anyway, so he didn't have a clue where they were. Even after looking in all the cabinets in the bathroom, he couldn't find them. So, with the mindset of someone setting out for some noble quest much grander than looking for towels, he set off to search for them. That 'setting off' really only involved looking behind the one door he hadn't been shown, where he found a closet, much to his satisfaction. It had the towels he had been looking for along with assorted soaps and cleaning supplies. There were lots of those, mostly lavender scented. You could tell a lot about a person by their cleaning supplies. Not that he knew what that a lot entailed, but it seemed like you probably could.

He went back to the bathroom, feeling a strange sort of pride over finding what he was looking for so easily. He was also a little more excited about being able to wash himself off then what was normal for him, so he turned on the water with more force than necessary. There was a brief moment and panic where he thought he might have broken the hot water handle off, but it was all fine, thank god. It wasn't like Jean or his dad had enough money to fix that. It was a good thing Armin's parents were rich enough to afford good bathroom fixtures. Or maybe these were normal and his own were just extraordinarily horrible. He took a moment to adjust the temperature before stripping off his clothes and getting in. The warm water washing over his head and down his body felt heavenly, as showers always did when you needed them. It was like he was washing away all his problems along with the sweat and dirt.

Unlike the first time he was here, he felt comfortable using their soap. Maybe it was because he had already spent a day eating their food, or maybe it was because saving the life of one of the residents should probably warrant being allowed to use soap. Either way he noticed it as it's own sort of dangerous progress towards getting attached. That was bad, he wasn't supposed to do that. Sure, he knew he was already breaking all his rules by spending this much time with Armin, and by calling him a friend. _Although,_ he reasoned _I don't want to smell funny, so there's that. I'm just trying to find meaning where there is none._

By the time he was done, Jean felt at least twenty times better than he had before, which was pretty good, considering that he hadn't actually felt all that bad before. There was one problem though, he hadn't thought to get his clothes before he came in here. That meant they were still in the living room with Armin, who was still unconscious as far as he was aware. Well, that made things more difficult. He didn't really want to wake him up in a towel; that would be sort of awkward, but it was sort of unavoidable, as hanging around in one of the other rooms wearing almost nothing would be much more unacceptable. He had to get them. His only real solution was to be as quiet as possible (which was difficult when they were in a noisy plastic bag) and hope that the other boy wasn't a light sleeper.

As it turned out, there was no need to worry. Armin was already wide awake, sitting cross legged on the couch and looking through the bag of clothes. He didn't look up when Jean entered the room, instead he acknowledged his presence by saying. "You know, these are completely unacceptable. I thought that you just dressed like a homeless person because you thought it was cool, but these are actually all the clothes you have. I mean, I assume so, it didn't look like your house had room for many clothes."

He felt his face turning red with embarrassment, unsurprisingly. He really shouldn't have let hime see his house, now that's all he would see about him. And that would come with pity, naturally. If truth be told, he had picked his more presentable clothes when he had gotten them. Not that doing so had meant leaving much behind, that much was true, but at least these ones sort of fit and didn't have holes. "You know, it's rude to make fun of people's clothes, Armin." He sighed. It was no use getting angry with him, after all. What he said was true. Besides, he had said it as more of a statement than an insult, so it didn't bother him too much. "Can I have those? I don't really enjoy standing around in towels."

"What?" He looked up, and seemed to realize for the first time that Jean wasn't dressed. 'Oh, yeah, of course." He tossed him the bag, blushing that stupid blush that should really be illegal for a boy to do so cutely. "Sorry."

"No big deal." Jean assured him, searching through the bag and pulling out His best remaining shirt, a blue one that said "Do as I do" It was a quote from Iron Man, of course, and it was sort of funny because of the "rage and serenity" shirt of Eren's. Jean had gotten his own when a girl in his class had been screen printing shirts for free last year. She had been learning how, so his shirt wasn't nearly as perfect as the other boy's was, but he knew that both had to have been custom made. Marvel quote t-shirts weren't exactly something you could pick up at Walmart.

Along with it he grabbed a pair of boxers and basketball shorts, as they were a lot more comfortable than his other pants because they stretched. Armin already knew he didn't have good clothes; it wasn't like he was trying to hide it now. He went to untuck his towel and let it fall, but he was stopped when Armin cried out. "Wait, are you changing right here?!" He sounded horrified and Jean froze.

"I was going to, yeah." He answered uncertainly, hands completely still on the edge of the towel. His eyes were wide with surprise, mirroring the other boy. They probably looked pretty ridiculous right now, like a couple of deer caught in headlights.

"In front of me?" He had calmed down a little bit from his initial state of alarm, and seemed more startled and confused than anything else.

"Yes." He told him, more firmly this time, though he was still unsure why this was such a big deal. He didn't see anything wrong with changing in front of another guy, he had taken plenty of gym classes, and that always required changing in front of other people. They were both guys after all, so it wasn't like it would be some new and mentally scarring sight. "I can go back to the bathroom if that makes you feel better." He added, watching the other's expression carefully.

"But I'm gay, doesn't that make _you_ uncomfortable?" Armin stammered out, as though he was irritated with Jean for not finding the whole deal as repulsive as he thought he should. By now his face was so red it seemed that it couldn't stand much more without exploding.

_Oh,_ he realized _so__ that's the issue._ He hadn't really considered it being a problem. "Not really." He answered honestly. "If for some reason you have the sudden urge to make out with me or whatever it is that people are afraid of, then I trust you to control it. I mean, I don't really think that putting on clothes would be very exciting anyway. It's like changing for a play. You've done that before, right? It's the same thing, really. I mean I'm fine with it, but if you aren't then I really can go to the bathroom, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm fine, it's just I thought you would want to make sure I didn't see you." Armin tilted his head to the side in a way that reminded Jean of a puppy for some reason. Probably his hair. The way it hung on either side of his head was pretty similar to dog ears.

"Well lucky for you, I'm not a homophobic asshat. I mean I would prefer you didn't like gape at my naked body or anything, but once again, I don't think that would be a problem." He grinned, dropping his towel and pulling on the boxers fairly quickly for the other boy's sake. He didn't want him to think he had changed his mind and decided to go to the bathroom because of himself, but he could also tell that even if Armin said he was fine, he was at least a little bit uncomfortable. "And I'm not that attractive anyway. I mean maybe if I was one of those irresistible movie star type guys then maybe I would feel the need to worry, but I'm not. I'm very average; you probably have better taste than that." He joked, as he put on the rest of his clothes.

"You'd probably be better looking if you had better clothes, you know." Armin frowned at him, clearly disapproving of his outfit. So they were back to that now. Well, it was better than this line of conversation, anyway. "And what is with the 'Do as I do' on your shirt?"

"It's an Iron Man quote. You know, from the first movie when they're in the caves and Yinsen tells Tony to do as he does so they won't like kill him or whatever?" He explained, hoping that the other boy would understand what he was talking about. Judging by the fact that he had never seen Wolverine until last night, he did have his doubts.

Apparently, he did know though, as he snorted and shook his head. "Oh my god, you're such a nerd. Why did you put it on a shirt?"

"Well you know how there's a brand called OBEY? Well I mean I think it's a brand, anyway. Basically people have all kinds of shirts and hats with OBEY on it and I thought that it would be sort of funny. See, I'm mocking it. It's sort of like a parody." He grinned, proud of his own joke. It was really top notch humor, if he did say so himself. Well obviously, his sense of humor was pretty great, you'd have to be an idiot not to see that.

It earned him a sigh and another head shake from the blond. "I think I must have a type."

"A type?" He inquired, a little worried that he was blushing. Only because he was flustered of course, that was sort of a weird thing to say to a totally one hundred percent straight guy.

"Yeah. It seems like all my friends are huge dorks with big heads and dumb senses of humor." Jean thought his head was perfectly sized actually, so he hoped that Armin had been referring to his ego when he said that. "Oh, and they're all stubborn and need help picking their clothes." He added, pointedly. Why did he hate his clothes so much? They really weren't that bad.

"You know, I don't appreciate your judgmental attitude." He started, before the second part of what the other boy had said could fully sunk in. "Wait, what do you mean I need help picking out clothes?" He didn't like the sound of that. Saying he had bad taste and saying he needed help picking stuff out were two very different things.

"We're going shopping." The other boy stated, seemingly oblivious to Jean's rising level of stress. "Like I said, your wardrobe is completely unacceptable, so we're going to do something about it. We might as well, it's not like there's anything important to do today."

"No. We are not going to go shopping! I don't have any money! Besides, the clothes I have now are just fine." He argued throwing his hands up into the air. Why did he have to try to get involved in this? It was none of his business what clothes he wore.

"Yeah, tell that to all the time you spend on your hair to distract from it. Anyway, I have plenty of money, and I just texted my mom and asked if I could get you clothes."

"And she'll say no because why would you need to buy clothes for me." Jean spluttered, irritatedly. Why the hell would he buy him clothes? It was ridiculous, especially considering that it was his parent's money, not his own. He had no right to take him out shopping.

"Actually she'll say yes because I already told her you can't afford to get them yourself." The other boy argued, stubbornly.

"Fine, then she'll say no because she doesn't even know me." Jean shot back. He wasn't as much angry as panicked and guilty. What if he couldn't win this argument? As much as new clothes would be wonderful to have, he didn't want them to be bought by someone else, least of all someone he didn't know very well, and he really actually was incapable of getting them himself.

"Please, you've met her. If anything she'll be asking me why I didn't take you shopping sooner." The other boy snorted. He was probably right. One meeting was enough to gather that much about her.

"Armin I can't just accept new clothes from you. It's this little thing called dignity. If I can manage without it, which I can, then I'm not going to accept your charity." He protested. Maybe if he was open about why then it would help. Not that it wasn't already obvious. After the touchy feely display yesterday, they should both know enough about each other to at least guess their motivations, especially with something like this.

"You are too. I'm willingly getting this stuff for you because you need it. If I wasn't sure that you needed it then I wouldn't be insisting on buying it." He folded his arms, looking at him with probably the sternest face he could manage. With that innocent baby angel face it wasn't actually that intimidating.

"Need is a really strong word you know. I'm not sure it really applies to this particular situation, as I do have enough clothes to get me by. They may not be good enough for your refined taste, but they're just fine for me." He huffed, aggravated. What was with these rich kids and their clothes? What did Armin's parents do for a living anyway? He knew they must have a lot of money, but if it was even a remote possibility that they would willingly fund a shopping spree for a stranger then they must really be raking it in.

"Well then, it's a shame that I already invited Marco to come to the mall with us. He said yes, and he's going to be here at ten." He shot back in a stupid little gloating sing-song voice, a smirk on his face. That's the problem with someone like Armin. He looked so damn innocent, but then he pulled something like this. He was a devious little bastard, that was for sure.

"You are _not_ buying me anything." Jean grumbled, plopping down on his blanket on the floor. He wasn't going to let him, it just wasn't acceptable. It would be pathetic.

"We'll see."

* * *

It felt like forever before Marco arrived. He was dropped off by his mother, who was a very friendly woman, and looked a lot like her son. Seeing her hug him goodbye, Jean felt a familiar pang of jealousy. He didn't even bother denying it now, maybe because this weekend of emotional displays had worn him out too much to bother. Either way, Armin seemed to notice, though thankfully he didn't say anything. There was a sort of nobility in choosing to pretend not to notice other people's negative emotions, and he could really appreciate that.

Apparently Marco was already aware of the plans for the day, which sadly meant that his hope of avoiding the situation entirely by distracting Marco was out the window. That and the affirmative text from Armin's mother, of course. Well, maybe he could at least argue enough to convince him not to buy anything. He might have a little more consideration than Armin, at least. He was so nice normally. Of course, that meant it could easily go one of two ways, either he would respect Jean's feelings or he would decide without a doubt that buying new clothes was the right thing to do. Those nice people were tricky that way.

Almost as soon as Mrs. Bodt's minivan was gone, the three of them were getting into Armin's car. It wasn't as fancy as he had thought it was last time. In reality it was a Toyota, but it was no ore than six years old and didn't have a single visible dent of scratch, so for a high schooler especially it was pretty impressive.

It was a surprisingly long drive to get there from Armin's house, partly because they were going through the city on a Saturday, and partly because both of the other boys agreed that the only acceptable mall was the one clear on the opposite side of town. Jean had never known anyone to be so picky about which mall they went to. Then again, he had never been shopping with someone who knew local malls before.

The mall was pretty impressive, even from the outside. Jean could recognize that, despite the fact that he never really shopped at malls, let alone went there with friends from school. At most he would see them in passing. This one was huge though, possibly even three stories tall, which was something he had only ever seen twice in all the places that he had lived, which was really saying something. He didn't have much time to take it in, or even to worry about the prices of someplace like this, because both of the other boys were soon dragging him along behind them as if this were something exciting and not spending their money on clothes for someone they hadn't even known for very long.

His feeling of not belonging in a place like this only grew when they went inside. It _was_ three stories, as he had expected, and it had an arched glass roof, which was pretty common for malls, but on this scale seemed a little ridiculous to Jean. But then again, what did he know about that kind of thing?

"So where do you want to go first?" Armin turned to him, his expression so ridiculously and reasonlessly happy that he almost felt bad for raining on his parade.

"Well, home would be nice. Not my home necessarily, we could go back to yours if that suits you better. Really just about anyone's home would do." He muttered in the way that he usually did when he was uncomfortable. Armin may know his stupid tragic backstory now, but at least he didn't know his habits and mannerisms yet. They weren't around each other enough for that.

As expected, his reply seemed to put a damper on the other boy's mood. "I mean a store, Jean." He huffed, folding his arms.

"How about Goodwill?" He suggested. If he couldn't get out of it completely then he'd at least try to make the trip inexpensive. Then again, he didn't really think that they would be satisfied with buying him clothes from Goodwill. They were rich kids, stores like Goodwil, where you could usually find a really good deal if you just took a minute to look were nowhere near acceptable.

As expected, Armin rejected the idea. After all they hadn't driven out to the mall for nothing, they wanted him to get some new clothes. "How about something other than a second hand store?" What an interesting thing it must be to have more than enough money. Jean barely had the time to care about what he was wearing himself, it seemed almost bizarre that two teenage boys would care enough to actually want to get him brand new stuff to wear.

But of course, he wasn't really okay with that. Sure, it looked like he might end up with no choice but to give in to their aggressive generosity, but he was going to be as annoying as hell about the whole process. "Walmart is pretty inexpensive, right?" He suggested, almost smirking when Armin's eyes narrowed.

"Jean." He growled, his face so clearly angry that Jean imagined there would be steam blowing out his nose if he were a cartoon. It was sort of funny in a weirdly scary way. He had never really considered the possibility of someone as angelic looking as Armin being able to get that frustrated.

But of course, Marco wasn't going to let them fight and ruin the day. "I think we should start out at JCPenney's. It's pretty reasonable as far as prices go, and it's a lot better than Walmart." Ever the peacekeeper. That guy should really become an anger management counselor or something. Hell, if they put him on peace negotiations for America then he could probably end wars.

After a minute of halfhearted arguing they all headed off to JCPenny's. It wasn't a bad idea actually, they were having a sale, so everything was a little less expensive than normal, and looking at the price tags, they weren't all that expensive to begin with. Of course, because they were inexpensive, they were probably lower quality, a guess that was confirmed by the disapproving looks Armin would give each and every item that the other two picked out. Jean had never really found him particularly annoying about anything in particular. Nothing at all actually, aside from his unwillingness to believe that he wasn't a completely useless burden. All the same, the judgmental feeling radiating off of him was quickly making it's way to being the first thing on the list.

It was hard to believe that he wasn't doing it on purpose after the discussion they had, but at the same time, It was Armin, and he couldn't imagine him doing something with the purpose of annoying someone. But how could it possibly be an accident? He knew this whole thing was sort of a sensitive area, and maybe Jean _was_ overreacting, but he was also being insensitive. Every time the other boy would even glance in his directin, he got a little more tense, and a little more angry, and before long he was about ready to loose his mind.

"You know I think this jacket would look good on you." Marco commented, holding a red zip up hoodie in front of him at arms length. The longer this shopping trip went on, the more Jean thought that he had a thing for red. While most of the stuff he had picked out for himself was some variation of rlue or grey, every singlr item that the other boy had gotten was red. Still, it looked pretty comfy, and it was fifteen dollars (which was about ten dollars more than what Jean would have normally been willing to spend on something like that) so as far as jackets go, it wasn't that bad. Plus, Armin's looks were making him feel like he needed to get _something_, otherwise he might drag them somewhere more expensive. Speaking of which, another glance over his shoulder had his eyes meeting a pair of disdainful blue ones.

"You know, I like it, but I don't think he does." He grumbled. It felt stupid really, getting upset over the facial expression that someone else was making. It wasn't bothering Marco, obviously, so why would it bother him? Why did he care so much about what that little bastard thought of a potential jacket option? Oh, right, probably because he was the one buying it.

To his relief, Marco smiled. "Armin, you don't seem like you're too pleased with anything we've picked out yet. Am I really that bad at choosing clothes, or are you just upset?"

It was funny how direct he could be without making an ass of himself.

"Both, actually. You guys seriously suck at picking out clothes, the jacket is fine, and so are the jeans, but no way am I letting you get that many plain t-shirts. Seriously, what are you thinking." He groaned out, exaggeratedly. Of course. He _had_ mentioned Jean not being able to pick out clothes for himself, and about having a type. If Marco was his friend, chances were he thought Marco couldn't dress himself either. "Okay, you've got that tall skinny awkward homeless teenager with good hair thing going on-"

"Hey!" He objected, more than a little offended. He did not look homeless.

"Let me finish, okay? Anyway, the natural direction to go with that is hipster. I mean you can have horrible clothes and everyone will think it's a fashion statement. Basically you don't have to maintain anything well. I mean don't wear the glasses or grow facial hair, then you'll look like a moron, but just do the purposefully messy thing."

"And what does that entail exactly?" The bad thing about moving all the time and not being able to afford internet, or more specifically, any sort of device that required internet, was that you were always a little behind on pop culture. He had heard people mention hipsters, obviously, but he hadn't actually figured out who they were yet.

"Oh, you know, a couple of t-shirts, plaid button ups, maybe some ugly sweaters when it gets cold. Also you'll need new shoes, and at least one scarf and hat." Armin ticked the items off on his fingers. "We won't be able to find sweaters this time of year, but we can get everything else just fine, and we can do it pretty inexpensively too, if we go to the right places. I mean we could do better somewhere that's actually expensive since it's really more of a pricey hobo thing, but since you care so much I guess we can keep the price down."

"That sounds kind of like lumberjack clothes." Jean pointed out. "But are you saying I would do best in lumberjack hobo outfits or am I misinterpreting this?"

"That's actually a surprisingly accurate description, but really it isn't a bad thing I swear." Marco nodded with his usual smile. He was like the embodiment of sunshine, really, it was ridiculous. "You'll look sort of like a dick, but I mean with your face and attitude I'm pretty sure you could still pull it off. Plus girls seem to like hipster guys for some reason, so if you're into that then it's perfect."

Jean wasn't sure if he should feel insulted that Marco would possibly question his straightness or not. On one hand, he didn't really have a problem people thinking he was gay, but on the other hand, he felt that as a teenage boy it was basically his duty to 'no homo' out of every situation ever. In the end he decided to just ignore that part of the statement all together in favor of something he was much more curious about. "Wait, what about my face would help me pull it off?" Was he saying that he looked like a dick, so it would be fine, or that he looked so charming that no one would ever think he was a dick no matter what he wore?

"It's nice." Marco shrugged, like it was no big deal. Had he missed some part of the conversation? Maybe Armin had said something that the other boy was responding to. Whatever it was, Marco certainly hadn't just called his face _nice._ Of all the ways he could have worded it, why would he choose the way that made it sound like he was casually commenting on the weather?

"My face is?" He inquired, hoping for some sort of explanation. He was even more confused when he just sort of nodded in response.

"Yeah."

"I swear, you theater kids are like a whole different species. You make complimenting my face sound like telling a child their finger painting is good." Jean sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered."

"Well I mean it's not like he's going to congratulate you on it Jean, it just sort of grew there after all. Plus if he compliments you too enthusiastically, then you'd assume that he was gay, and sadly the position of awkward gay third friend is already taken." Armin explained, as though this was something that normal people discussed. They really were a couple of oddballs, but it was easy to see why everyone liked them. It was like watching a sitcom in a weird way. "Anyway, give me those we'll put them back." He indicated several of the items on Jean's arm.

"But if he were gay then that would make me the awkward straight third friend right? So the situation would sort of resolve itself." He pointed out, handing Armin several items that apparently didn't make the cut. He seemed to know just which ones were unacceptable too (admittedly it was almost everything so he probably just remembered what was okay) as he took them and put them back where they belonged, while the other two sort of followed him since he was the only one who actually knew what he was doing.

"It wouldn't be as awkward if it was a straight third friend, trust me. You'd still fit in with the majority. The not fitting in is two thirds of the awkwardness" He talked over his shoulder to them, seeming much more comfortable now that he was a part of the conversation and stuff. Maybe they had been being a little rude before, sort of shutting him out, even if it wasn't on purpose. They had come to a rack of jeans, which Armin was now picking through, looking for his size, or at least what they had estimated to be around his size. He pulled out a couple pairs of each possibility and held them up. "And you may not like it, but hipsters usually wear skinny jeans, or at least straight legs. You don't _have_ to get them, I guess, but it would really finish off the look."

"You know Armin, I never had you pegged for the stereotypical fashionable, theatrical gay kid. It's kind of endearing." He commented, looking at the pair of Jeans that Armin had picked up to show to him as he had been talking. They looked sort of uncomfortable, but he did like making an impression, and they would certainly make it seem like he was very conscious of his appearance. Mostly because no one in their right mind would wear those for anything other than style.

"Oh, keep saying things like that and I'll be a stereotypical fainting schoolgirl too." The other boy replied flatly. Apparently he resented the stereotype or something because he certainly didn't look amused.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it in a bad way." He apologized quickly. He didn't know why he cared so much about upsetting him now. Probably because he was no longer intentionally being a dick so he wanted to make sure he wasn't on accident either.

"I didn't think that you did, what with the use of the word 'endearing', but it's nice to know you care about how I feel. You're a real heart breaker, Jean Valjean." He turned around, a little half amused smile on his face. "Anyway, I think these are good enough. Go ahead and try them on." He handed him a couple of pairs of pants, along with three plaid shirts that Jean didn't remember seeing him get at any point in time. Maybe he did it when him and Marco were still looking. "We'll just wait out here, if they fit then we're getting them, no exceptions."

"But what if I don't like them?"

"Well then pick something else out, but don't try to wheedle out of getting something, okay?" He waved his finger like a school teacher, causing Marco to snort. "And you know, on second thought, you should come out and show us what they look like. If you've never heard of a hipster then you might not know if it looks right."

"Yeah, that wannabe lumberjack thing might seem wrong, but it really isn't. Keep that in mind." The other boy piped up. Great, that was encouraging.

* * *

Even now, with the clothes purchased, Jean really wasn't sure about them, but his friends had both assured him that they were perfectly hipster, and he trusted them. It was kind of a cool novelty to have friends, just as much as it was to go to a mall and get nice new clothes. He had never really done either before. They had stopped by some other store that he couldn't remember the name of, and gotten a black beanie, a matching scarf, and a belt. Apparently he was supposed to wear the hat on a regular basis, which seemed sort of weird, but some of the guys in the store were apparently hipsters, and sporting clothes that admittedly did look pretty stylish in a hobo-ey sort of way, and they were wearing beanies too. Although they were way too far back on their head to really be functional, so they looked sort of stupid, but hey, fashion was pretty weird sometimes. He could totally pull that off. He still wasn't sure why the hat had to be so far back though. Anyway, after a bit more walking around, the three of them had agreed that it was time for lunch, so they headed to the food court.

And what an interesting place the food court was. He had been to a food court before, obviously, but much like everything else in this mall, it was a lot bigger than what he had seen before. There were so many choices that he eventually had to let the other two boy's decide where to go for him. They chose a Chinese place, and each got fried rice and some sort of chicken. It was really good too, and he ate all of it pretty fast. The good thing about eating out with other teenage boys was that they all ate a lot, and fast. It wasn't like he was the only one eating like he had a time limit. Before more than ten minutes could have passed, all of them were finished.

"So, who wants what fortune cookie?" Jean asked. Fortune cookies were probably the best part of eating Chinese. Like a little bonus entertainment. So naturally, he took the choosing very seriously.

"Well I definitely don't want the one by me, that's how I always end up with the weird ones. I'll take the one next to you." Armin snatched up the one closest to Jean, triumphantly, like he had somehow cheated the system. He must have gotten some pretty bad fortunes to care that much about it. It would be sort of interesting to know what they were.

"Fair enough. I'll take your weird fortune then." Marco laughed, picking up the cookie and somehow managing to accidentally smash it in his hands. Maybe he had gotten overexcited and squeezed it too hard? "Aw, come on."

So that left the one closest to Marco. "I hope this one's a good one, cause I'm kinda stuck with it." He sighed, opening the saw Marco dump his little packet of cookie shards onto a napkin and start to eat them. It was sort of funny seeing someone that old looking so dejected over a broken cookie, and he barely held back a snort as he cracked his own open and pulled out the little slip of paper. "This year will be full of golden opportunities" He read. "So basically the most cliche fortune ever. Well, at least it's a good one."

"Mine says 'Your friends are your greatest assets.' Isn't that nice? These things are like motivational speeches condensed onto a tiny piece of paper, it's great." He gushed, beaming. Of course he would say that. "And hey, you wouldn't even have gotten a weird one if you had taken this!"

"You have got to be kidding me." Armin was looking at his fortune with a mixture of anger and bewilderment that Jean had never thought could be shown so clearly on a face at the same time. "I can't even get around it by taking someone else's, this is an injustice."

"Oh no, what did you get?" Marco asked. It was sort of funny because he sounded genuinely concerned. As if the fortune would actually come true, which seemed a little premature anyway since they didn't know what it said yet.

"It says 'eating carrots would be advisable to stop the cancer growing inside of you'"

Jean didn't believe it for one moment. "No way, let me see!" He exclaimed, taking the piece of paper. Sure enough, written in little black letters were probably the most unusual words to ever find their way into a fortune cookie. "How the hell did you manage to get that?"

"I have a talent for it." He sighed, plucking the paper from his hands with a defeated expression. "Marco can vouch for me, I always get something like that. Although this is the first time I've ever been threatened with cancer." He frowned. "I don't even like carrots."

"Isn't that a quote of something?" Jean asked. He was pretty sure it was. Like maybe a Disney movie or something, he wasn't sure.

"Probably. I mean at this point in time, when so many years have passed by, there's probably not any way to string words together that hasn't been said by someone. There's not an original statement or thought out there." Armin replied, shrugging. Once again, he acted like it was a completely normal thing to say even though it most definitely wasn't.

"Jesus Armin, you've got such a positive and insightful look on the word. Maybe you should become a motivational speaker, I'm sure you'd be great at it." He cracked back. He wasn't sure how to respond other than to make a joke about it.

"Well it's true!" The other boy objected. "Our language is too old for original statements."

"But I just thought it was a movie quote. It got too real too fast."

"Fine. Be boring and positive about everything, but you're just kidding yourselves." He huffed. "Anyway, I think I've had enough of the mall for one day, how about you?"

"The sooner we leave anywhere that you can spend more money, the better."

"Well I guess if both of you want to leave then there's no point in staying. Is there anything else you want to do? We could go catch a movie or something."

"I'd rather just go home really, but we can watch a movie there if you want."

Nah, I don't want to intrude or anything, and my mom was hoping I could get a ride with you guys anyway. If you just drop me off then I'll be good.

"Are you sure? We could watch a movie and take you back out to your house afterward.

"No thanks, I don't want to be a bother

So they dropped him off at his house, which was in an area that Jean didn't recognize. Another problem with moving around a lot, he supposed. They spent the rest of the drive back in silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable. And actually pretty close too, as it only took a few minutes to get to Armin's house.

As they got out of the car to go inside Jean broke the silence. "Thanks for the clothes."

"No problem, I like to help my friends when I can." He waved a hand dismissively, a gesture he seemed to do pretty often, and nearly every time someone thanked or complimented him. It was funny the things he noticed now.

He couldn't stop himself from asking the question that had been on his mind all day. "Is it weird for you? Having friends? I mean you had been shutting everyone out for almost a year, it must feel a little strange to stop that."

"Not really, is it weird for you?" He countered, more curious than aggressive.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

That made him pause a minute. He didn't really know why it was weird. Having friends should be normal. It was kind of a normal part of being human, or at least it was supposed to be. He had just been stopping himself from doing it all these years. "It's just new, I guess."

"That's actually really sad." Armin told him seriously.

"Is it?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"You're pretty sad too though." He pointed out.

"Yeah." The other boy agreed.

So that's what they were then, two sad friends with sad and lonely lives. At least they went together.


	8. A Preference for Isolation

**A hell of a long wait and a kind of short chapter, just perfect. More emotional distress of course, because I can't do that for more than one chapter at a time, apparently Trigger warnings for parent issues? Could be considered emotional abuse or manipulation I suppose. Also a huge thank you to reviewers to remind my lazy ass to keep updating, sorry it took so long, I guarantee that the next chapter will not take so long.**

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Looking back on it, the weekend seemed like a dream to Jean somehow. A boring one, sure, but a dream nonetheless. After all, he had completely broken almost every rule that he ever set for himself. He hadn't even done any studying, which was probably bad. He wasn't some genius who could just understand things right off the bat. He was supposed to be taking advantage of the extra time off.

Marco had offered to take him home early, both to his thanks and his great displeasure. On one hand, if he wasn't there when Armin's parents arrived, then they would assume that he had only spent the night once, which would be much better in the long run since it left them little chance to find out about everything else that happened. Not that that was ideal either, as they really should get him into therapy or antidepressants or something. But Armin didn't want them to know, and Jean could respect that. Then again, having Marco taking him home came with the rather large consequence of Marco seeing his house, which he still wasn't particularly eager to show off now that Armin had confirmed his suspicions by saying it looked like a shed. Very rude of him, by the way.

They crammed his new clothes into two bags, and left the house at noon. All too soon, the drive was over. Really, it had taken so much longer to walk the other day than it did to drive, it was a little ridiculous. But that was sort of the whole point of cars anyway, so it wasn't so much surprising as annoying. "Okay, this is my street. I swear to god, if you laugh or make any snide comments-" He started nervously, only to be interrupted with a reassuring voice.

"I wouldn't do that Jean, you're my friend and your dignity is important to you. I'm not going to make you uncomfortable like that." Marco smiled that wonderful happy smile that made Jean think it wouldn't be all that surprising if he was Jesus come again. And naturally, that thought led to the other thought that he was fucking weird because who even thinks like that? "Anyway, do you want me to come in with you? Or do you think your dad will be okay with all that?" He gestured towards the shopping bags in Jean's lap. Even packed as tightly as they could be, the two very full bags were considerably more than the half empty bags he had left with. He hoped his dad wasn't going to be that observant today, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up, his father was observant at the worst of times.

"You know, I'm not sure that would actually help. He's kind of uptight about people seeing our house. Like me, I guess." He responded, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Anyway, it's just around this corner." He continued, not so subtly changing the subject. Marco turned and stopped in front of the house at his instruction. "Thanks for giving me a ride, it is kind of a long walk." Jean mumbled, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Even if it was a nice gesture, he was reluctant to accept it, for obvious reasons. He _did_ trust that Marco would never intentionally make him uncomfortable about where he lived, but it was that whole unintentional part that always got to him. It was so much worse when you could see them struggling to be nice, much worse than innocent teasing.

"Anytime." The other boy waved a hand dismissively, as he parked. "You basically just lived at Armin's house this weekend, right?" He added, turning to face him.

"Yeah... Why?" Jean answered, uncertainly. For some reason it really felt like a really loaded question. He was probably overthinking it though, this wasn't some kind of high school movie where every single thing was about some stupid sappy romance, it was just a friendly question. Totally.

"No reason, it's just that you were there pretty early yesterday and you must have spent the night since you needed a ride home." He shrugged, looking at him with his ever-present grin. "That's two nights. I was just curious, I guess. Deducing. Like Sherlock Holmes. I don't like spreading rumors, but I like trying to figure out every minute detail about someone's life with only circumstantial evidence. It's sort of useless without confirmation though."

"Oh." Jean nodded uncomfortably, not entirely sure what to say. After a moment he just chose to ignore that and continue talking as if it had never been said. "Well... I think he needed the company." Jean explained. It wasn't like it was a big deal or anything, he was just trying to be a good person for once. He couldn't possibly live with Armin's death on his conscience. It wasn't like he would have been _responsible_ exactly, but it would certainly count as negligence, and no matter how many loopholes he tried to come up with, it wouldn't make him feel any better about it.

"It was a good thing to do." Marco reasoned. Something about his tone struck Jean as being off, but he elected to ignore it. At least until he added on the last part. "I mean I didn't even know you swing that way, so I mean telling him was probably pretty hard."

"Wait, what?!" Jean practically shouted, a little to distracted to keep control over his vocal volume. He was pretty sure his eyes were practically popping out of his head. Not because he was offended exactly, it was just not the reason that he had been expecting. Was that really the only possible explanation he could think of? Not that he just felt like not being sort of responsible for someone dying? Not that he knew for sure about the dying thing, but really? That would be sort of rude of Jean, even if he was interested in Armin, which he totally wasn't.

"Sorry, I just assumed that maybe you weren't comfortable with it since you hadn't really told anyone." Marco spluttered, obviously panicking a little. He probably thought that he had offended him or something, and he clearly wasn't used to offending people. His face kept getting redder and redder and at this point he was starting to look a bit like a strawberry, what with the freckles and all. "I don't take that sort of thing lightly, I mean people around here aren't exactly open minded so it takes some courage to expose yourself to that. It's not like I have a problem with it or anything." He finished, looking down nervously.

"Dude, what are you talking about? I'm not gay." Jean objected, staring at his friend in confusion. Why was _that_ the automatic conclusion that he came to? Honestly, he had thought that Marco didn't make assumptions about people. Even if he did want to be like Sherlock Holmes.

"You aren't?" He looked dumbfounded. Clearly whatever response he had been anticipating had not been that. Although it begged the question of what had he been expecting? A punch in the face? Honestly, that seemed a little harsh.

Jean heaved a sigh. However exasperated he might have been, it was obvious that the other boy hadn't meant anything by it. Not that it would have been a bad thing to be gay anyway except it kind of would because his dad would most definitely not be okay with that, and he would probably be homeless since he wasn't sentimental to begin with and also he was sort of to blame for his mom dying a little bit. Not really. "No."

"So you two aren't..." Marco trailed off, raising an eyebrow in obvious question.

"No! I was just worried about him so I stayed with him. I think he needed it." Jean explained. "I can't tell you what happened exactly, because I promised I wouldn't, but I just couldn't leave him there by himself. It would be negligence. Plus I'm not going to prey on emotionally distressed peers so I can stick my dick in them, what kind of person do you think I am?"

Marco broke into a wide grin, looking at him like you might look at a picture of a puppy and a kitten sleeping next to each other. "I was hoping that was the case, and it was! That's great then! Maybe better even, I mean I think he needs a friend more than he needs a boyfriend right now. Not a lot of guys are willing to spend that much time with someone who they think might be into them. Thanks for not being a jerk." He gave him a rather strong pat on the back, as though that were something remarkable and not just human decency.

"Uh... You're welcome?"

"I'm sorry, I probably seem pretty weird to you, don't I? Being worried about him and all that without trying to help him very much." The other boy sighed, staring off at some invisible point that Jean couldn't see. What a drama queen. He was half expecting some sort of joke just because Marco was into theater and that seemed the obvious place to go with and emotionally charged sentence and a dramatic gaze into the middle distance.

But after a second it became quite clear that he was serious, and possibly a little perturbed with the pause. "I guess so?" It seemed like the right answer, although he hadn't actually noticed anything about it. It was hard to tell sometimes whether or not he was just clueless about that sort of thing because of all his years of self induced isolation, but in this case he figured that that wasn't it. Marco always cared about everyone, it was sort of his thing. Not that Jean had known him for a long time or anything, but still, of course he wouldn't think that it was unusual.

"We had a little bit of a falling out this summer, so I stopped trying to be around him unless he invites me." The other boy offered, clearly anticipating further questions on the subject. That particular social cue was obvious enough for even him to grasp.

"What happened?"

As soon as the inquiry left his lips, Marco was telling more of the story. It was endearing, in a way, that he was so eager to explain that he wasn't just being a dick because he didn't care, which seemed to be how he viewed it. "Well, he and I hung out a lot over the summer, I think because his mom wanted him to stop being so antisocial. Anyway, we would get together at least once a week, which was great because I got to check up on him and I had been really worried because he's always been a little fragile, and even someone really stable might not be able to handle that. Anyway, toward the end of the break I wanted to do something that I knew he loved, so I asked him to come swimming with me, because he's always just really loved going swimming and I thought he would enjoy it, but all of a sudden he stopped answering my texts." He paused to breathe, as he had been forgetting that and was now completely out of breath, and Jean thought back to when Armin lifted his shirt. All those scars. It wasn't any wonder he tried to avoid the invitation, he must have been terrified of what Marco would think of him. He had already stated that they made him permanently hideous. "Basically I went over to his house after two days, without being invited, and he freaked out. He was a total mess, and I think he was embarrassed about it or something, and of course the only thing I could think to do was talk about god, because that's just sort of how I deal with stressful situations, so I thought it might make him feel better, and I talked about how Eren was watching him from heaven." He stopped again here, uncertain on how to continue. On one hand you could see that he didn't want to make Armin seem like some sort of godless heathen in case Jean's opinion of him might be affected, but on the other hand, he wanted to tell the story how it happened. "Well the thing about Armin is that he sort of resents any religion of any kind. He doesn't believe in it, and I don't know the whole story, but he can't stand hearing people talk about it. Like seriously he can't even grudgingly bear with it. I should have remembered that, but I didn't and long story short, I had to leave."

"You know, I never knew that. Guess he'll have to stay away from my dad then, he likes to spout religious justification for all of his mistakes. But anyway, you still hang out with him even though he hates your religion?"

"Well yeah, I mean it's not like I'm going to hate him over something that trivial. We just have to avoid certain topics. I mean if I were one of those really conservative 'everyone who disobeys the lord are heathens and I won't associate with them' type of christians, then I wouldn't talk to him, or shop with him, or spend the night at his house ever. Not that I think being gay is strictly against the bible or anything, but that's a pretty common trend with those people." He snorted, rolling his eyes. It was funny how everything he did seemed to make him more and more perfect. At this point it wouldn't be surprising if he sprouted wings and just fucking ascended to heaven

"So you're more of a live and let live kind of guy, huh? I can appreciate that." Jean finally got out, unable to hold back a smile. If he was going to break his friendship rule for anyone but Armin, he was glad that it was him.

"Well thanks, I love being appreciated." Marco bantered back nudging him with his elbow. For the first time in one of their conversations, he felt completely at a loss for any proper response or reactions. Instead, he just gave a short, uncomfortable laugh.

"I should probably go. Dad'll be wondering why there's just a random car parked outside our house" He stammered, grabbing his bags. "Thanks again for the ride."

"Yeah, anytime. Are you sure you don't want me to come in?" He emphasized the question, as though it wasn't completely arbitrary whether or not he did. Not that Jean was too keen on displaying even more of his pathetic living quarters, nor would his father be, he just didn't see it mattering either way.

"Why would I want that?" He asked bluntly, only realizing that it had sounded completely rude when he had already said it.

Luckily, Marco was completely unfazed, as usual probably. It was hard to know with someone that he knew so little but was most likely unfailingly perfect. He didn't quite Know what limitations there were on that. "You said he might be mad and he might not like yell at you if I'm there." He suggested. It might have been a good point too, if his dad wasn't so incredibly black and white with emotions. If he was pissed, then he was pissed, no matter the audience. Still, it wouldn't hurt anything if he let him walk him to the door.

"If you want to then you can come to the door, but I wouldn't actually come inside if I were you. Not that it would be a huge issue if you did, but my dad can be a little temperamental sometimes." Jean admitted, getting out of the car. Almost the same moment that he said it, Mr. Kirschtein came outside, smiling and waving in greeting. Only Jean, who had known him for fifteen years, could see the strain behind it. He was angry already. Perfect.

"Jean finally decided to come home, huh?" Despite the friendly teasing tone, the underlying taunt in it was clear, at least it was to him. So that was why he he was upset. He had completely forgotten to tell his dad that he was spending the night again. It wasn't that he would have minded or anything, but not telling him would have been a definite betrayal of trust in his eyes. He couldn't even defend himself now, not without getting into an argument, and he wasn't going to embarrass himself like that in front of Marco. And his dad knew it too.

"And you must be the young man my son was going to spend the night with. I'm Rob, Jean's dad, and I'm afraid I didn't get your name?" All the false cordiality, it was sickening. Not that his friend seemed to mind.

"Oh, I'm Marco, one of his school friends." The freckle faced boy grinned broadly, reaching out to shake his hand like he was a car salesman or something. Jean couldn't help but take note of the fact that he didn't correct him and say that he had just dropped it off. Most likely he was just trying to be polite and not correct him since they had literally just met. All the same, it might have been better if he had actually clarified that. The way this was going his dad was about to get mad, and as it was he was completely oblivious to it.

"And, uh I see you sent him home with a few extra items." He sniffed, still smiling that terrible but convincing fake smile of his. God it was like watching a cat getting ready to kill a mouse. Marco had no idea what was coming. He thought this was just friendly small talk. Maybe for once Rob would decide to behave like an adult and not take out his anger on a fifteen year old stranger. Probably not, but he could always hope.

"Yeah, he had a few things he thought might fit me so he gave them to me." Jean butted in, attempting to save the conversation. But alas, it wasn't going to work. His dad was already set on this.

"Oh, is that right? And did you just happen to have these laying around the house?"

"Uh, no?" The other boy faltered, looking back and forth between them. What, was he morally opposed to lying so much that he couldn't pretend? He was close enough to Jean's size that it would be reasonable too, just a little taller. In all reality he probably could actually fit hand-me-downs from him. "We went to the mall." He finished. Seriously, he couldn't have even said Goodwill. This was going to be just wonderful.

"So now you're lying to me?" Mr. Kirschtein rounded on his son, glaring at him. "You're accepting charity and letting perfectly good kids waste their own money on you? You aren't Marco's responsibility you know, you can't just weasel clothes out of him." So he was only mad at _him_. Not quite what he was expecting, but as long as Marco was spared then it would be fine. He could deal with it. Well, deal with it was probably the wrong way to put it, it was still infuriating.

"I know, dad. It wasn't like that!"Jean objected, halfway offended at the accusation. When had he ever accepted charity before? He didn't like people's pity any more than his father. He should know that, after all he _had _raised him to be that way.

But then again, when had he ever been reasonable when he was angry. His son had gotten that from both parents, not just his mother. "Oh yeah? Then what was it like exactly?" He folded his arms, fingers digging into his arms. At least he was restraining himself from physical retaliation. Hitting Jean in front of a friend would only make things worse.

"Rob, it really wasn't, he didn't even want to let me get them for him, but I forced him into it." Marco pleaded, trying to calm him down. Jean noticed how he omitted Armin from any of this. Maybe he was actually starting to see the reality of the situation and that Mr. Kirschtein was not going to be okay with anyone buying him anything. Not ever. Well that was good.

"No, look we don't need your pity. Just 'cause you come past our house and think it's a piece of trash doesn't mean you get to start buying him clothes."He stepped forward, really getting up into the other boy's face. Maybe he wasn't used to that, because he immediately took a step back, causing Rob to smile in a disgusting satisfied sort of way. What, did he feel superior because he knew his own son wouldn't have backed down? Well that was stupid. '_oh look how much better I am because this kid isn't used to being hit by parents teehee_' If that was the case then he should feel more ashamed than anything. Plus, why wouldn't he flinch if a fully grown man that he knew came at him in an angry sort of way? "I don't want to see you around here again, understand me? You aren't to buy him anything from here on out."

"Dad-" Jean protested, clearly upset by his father's disrespect towards his friend. After all, he had only tried to be nice. Even if it was Armin who actually bought them, he was still just being nice. It was nothing to be mad about. A firm 'don't do that again' would have been enough. He should only be mad at his own kid for letting him do it.

"And you, I don't want you hanging out with people you think you can just mooch whatever you want off of. You don't have friends, remember. Keep it that way." Ah, there it was. Well, at least he had evened it out a little, Marco wouldn't feel so targeted

"Hey, you can't say things like that!" It seemed that his words had managed to do the impossible; make Marco angry. This was just snowballing now. "He's your son, how can you talk to him that way? What kind of father are you?" Great, now he had directly insulted him. Not taht it wasn't warranted, but it made things considerably more complicated. His father had only had a mild irritation towards him before, but now it would be much worse.

"The kind that won't let some punk ass freckly kid like you talk to him like that. I want you gone. Now." Just when it seemed that things couldn't get any worse, his dad was practically threatening one of the first people he had called a friend. Just perfect. Maybe next one of them could just pull a knife and make things really interesting.

"No, I'm not leaving him alone with you. You're crazy." No, he spoke too soon. Accusing his dad of being insane was probably way better than a knife.

"YOU LISTEN HERE, BOY-"

"MARCO, hey, I really appreciate that you're worried and looking out for me and all, but really please it'd be better if you left. I promise we won't kill each other or anything. Just let us sort this out." It felt a little mean, singling him out like that. It was mostly his dad's fault anyway. Who could blame the other boy for trying to defend his friend? He was just being a decent human being.

"But-"

"Please, go. It'll be fine." He reiterated, firmly. Arguing was still only human.

"But-" He objected for a second time. In a way it was sort of good to see that he cared so much, but honestly it was his father, it wasn't like he was going to hurt him.

"Go. We'll work it out, I'll see you tomorrow, all right?" He tried to sound reassuring, even throwing in a smile for good measure. Saying that he was going to be at school the next day must have at least been enough to let him know his dad wasn't the type to do anything serious. He really wasn't. A little yelling here, a slap there, and then an apology the next day, that was normal for him. It was never too bad.

"And I don't want you around my son anymore, alright? I can't stop you from being together in school, but under no circumstances are the two of you to see each other outside of that, do I make myself clear?" And once again all his effort was blown. Having three people in an argument was much harder than two, like he was used to.

"You can't co-"

"Cut it out already! Dad, quit talking to him if you want him to leave. Marco, stop answering him, you're supposed to be leaving." He had just been calming down too.

Luckily, he was smart enough to know when to give up. "Fine, see you on Monday" He conceded, rather dejectedly. They waited until he had gotten into his car and driven away to resume their conversation.

"He's a real prick, you know that?" Right, the ever mature and fatherly words of Robert Kirschtein. You could always count on him for that much.

And this time Jean wasn't going to stand for it. "No he isn't, he was just trying to be nice. You can't just expect him st sit there and be polite while you're rude to him and to me. Now he probably thinks you're abusive or something. You realize that, don't you?"

"Maybe I don't care. You were just trying to lie to me, what's your excuse for that, eh? I wouldn't have had to act like that if it weren't for your behavior."

"Dad, come on. Are you really going to criticize me for loyalty? Last time I checked that was one of the only things you cared about." Jean argued, furious. He was such a hypocrite, why did he have to treat this like a crime? All he had done was not resist them enough, yeah it was wrong, but it shouldn't be this big a deal.

Then again, it was his dad, and his dad had a way of making big deals out of nothing. "Yeah, loyalty to your own family, not to some kid you met at school a month ago." Unbelievable. Was he just angry that he had loyalty to someone else now Really? An entire school career of never so much as asking to hang out with someone, and now he was angry because he didn't want a friend to get yelled at? Sure, it was unexpected, but shouldn't it be a pleasant surprise? His dad was always saying how unhealthy it was for him to be antisocial.

"I was going to tell you, I was just going to wait until he left." He pointed out. "I didn't figure your first meeting should be yelling at each other. Might leave a bad impression, you know? Guess it's too late for that though."

"So what you're saying is that you're embarrassed by me?" Rob demanded angrily. Was he seriously offended right now? After all that he had done?

"Yeah, just a little bit. Normal people don't have parents who get mad at them when they get clothes that fit them! Normal people don't _have _to go behind their parent's backs to get those clothes! Why did you have to get mad at him? I would have been fine if it was just me." Jean insisted, "What you did was completely unnecessary."

"You know what, boy? I'm disappointed in you."

The statement hit him like a ton of bricks. Never, not once had his father said that he was disappointed in him before. Tthe fact that he was legitimately ashamed, disappointed, and angry with Jean for accepting charity and lying to him, was ten times worse than just Marco not being allowed to come over. Rob was a good man, and he had always known that his wife had beaten Jean down more than enough for the both of them, so he always went easy on him. Even when she died, he never directly turned the blame on him. Plus, with pretty much only straight A's there was't much to complain about. He was a model son. So to hear those words, _'I am disappointed in you' _It was like a slap in the face.

They didn't talk for most of the night. If Rob felt bad for what he said, then he didn't show it, nor did he relent on the punishment. Jean could keep the clothes, but he certainly wasn't allowed to be around Marco again. Really that was fine. He had gone so many years without friends to hang out with, what difference did one lousy weekend make? Plus, he could still hang out with Armin or anyone else, just so long as Marco stayed away. It wasn't fair, but he could deal with it.

What he was really struggling with was the fact that he had been reprimanded. All those years of only ever having minor shortcomings had piled up, and those last two things had sent it all toppling. One acceptance of charity, and one tiny little lie. Jean Kirschtein, single and most disappointing child to Robert Kirschtein. And what had he been expecting? That he would be able to keep this going forever? To never cause an issue of any sort? As soon as he got friends and started acting like some semblance of a normal person for his age group, he screwed it all up. And now he felt nothing at all. No crippling guilt or anxiety, not even anger at his father for being unrealistic. Just the suffocating feeling of blankness. If this was anything like what Armin was going through, he could understand why he wanted to jump off that bridge.


	9. Pronouns and Larger Problems

**Trigger warning, serious injury.**

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The following Monday he was greeted almost as soon as he walked in the door by a familiar, intimidated voice. "I see you chose not to follow my rules. I'm sure there was a good reason."

"Mikasa?!" Maybe it was her death stare, or maybe it was the fact that she could probably kill him in twenty different ways with nothing but her bare hands, but having her sneak up on him like that was probably one of the most terrifying things that Jean had ever experienced. And that was actually saying a lot. He nearly peed his pants, a pair of very new jeans that would be especially terrible to get dirty. "Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you actually, because I totally violated every possible rule you could set and I even violated my own rules and jesus please don't kill me it's way to early for that, I can explain."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "Violated? If you hurt him-"

"Oh my god not like that, why does everyone think that?" Seriously why did everyone have to take everything he did in completely the wrong way?

"So you didn't take advantage of him?" It was hard to tell, but it looked like that had calmed her down at least a little bit, which made him think that maybe that had been her original assumption before she even talked to him. What kind of person did she think he was? He may not be winning any good citizen awards, but he wasn't _that _terrible_._ But no matter, she was back to her normal glare instead of the more murderous expression she had been wearing before, so it was a step in the right direction at least,

"No, nothing like that happened, I swear. I'm not gay, I'm like completely heterosexual just so you know." And back to the narrowed eyes. This would probably be a good time to explain, you know, to diffuse the tension. It did look a bit like he was hitting on her at this point, and while he definitely thought she was very pretty, she was also much more terrifying and deadly than what he would really be looking for in a girlfriend. But how did he explain without breaking his promise to Armin? He had sort of said that he wouldn't tell anyone, after all. "Okay, look, I can't give you details about what happened. He made me promise that much. But I _can_ tell you that he was a very bad state when I happened across him, and I took him home because it would be negligence to leave him alone. Not to the law necessarily, but to my conscience."

It didn't take long for her to understand. "You mean... He..." She seemed unable to say it out loud, but it was pretty easy to see that she knew what he meant. She was blinking very fast like she was trying to keep herself from crying, and for the first time that he had seen, she wasn't wearing a neutral expression. She had never seemed the type to cry, but this was certainly motivation enough. Poor girl, pretty much everyone had abandoned her as far as he knew, and now this. "I guess that I can make an exception then."

"Thanks." It was only partly sarcastic, because not getting beat up was a definite improvement on his prospects for the day. "Anyway, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to get that close to him. I wasn't going to get attached, I mean I don't do friends. Never. I'm off track here, I know you don't care about me I just thought you should know that I didn't intend to break any boundaries."

"It's fine, you've more than made up for it. Just this once though, you don't have some kind of pass to do whatever." She warned, but there was no conviction behind it. Just her sad, solemn voice. "And Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for watching him." She sighed, defeatedly. "Maybe I can't help him as much as I want to, but as long as someone can then it's okay.I'm glad you didn't ignore him." She finished. After that she didn't waste her time turning and leaving him. He was struck again with that odd sort of fluttery feeling. Maybe he was getting way ahead of himself with this new found ability to form bonds and connections, but he thought he might possibly have a crush. Just maybe. He really wasn't sure, since this was the only time he had been around her when she wasn't threatening to beat him up, but based on this intteraction she could be pretty nice. But then again that could be his own wishful thinking. But really, having a crush on her would be perfect. Whatever it was he kept feeling for Armin was just some weird friend thing, surely. He was straight. Obviously, because if he liked her then that was the only thing he could be.

* * *

It had been almost a month since then. Jean had gotten over the numbness towards his father, and in return Rob had stopped being angry about the clothes. He still wasn't technically allowed to see Marco, but sometimes on the weekends Armin would pick him up and they'd all go catch a movie at the two dollar theater. It was sneaky, and if his dad ever found out he would be in huge trouble, but it worked out well enough, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

September was almost over, and Armin was already excited about Halloween. Apparently it was his favorite holiday, because it was all he ever talked about. He was going to be He Man apparently, a character that Jean wasn't actually familiar with, but naturally the other boy was more than happy to show him. It was really a pretty good costume for him, he had the perfect hair for it, and his little pipe-cleaner body would make it funny too. Well, in all fairness it would be pretty hard for anyone_ not_ to look funny in purple tights. It was to be expected.

As time went on, he was starting to notice a lot of advantages to having friends. First of all, he had stories to tell about school, which was definitely a first for him. It was weird, he had never considered that as being a part of having friends, he had just assumed that he kept going to really boring schools, but actually it was just that he didn't care about these people enough to pay attention to them. Having friends even broadened his caring to more than just them. It was like a whole different universe in a way, one where people were not as incredibly dull as he had been led to believe. One of the more negative side effects was that people also cared about him, which meant they talked to him and wouldn't just leave him alone, and he wasn't used to all the attention. He was annoyed with at least one person at any given time of the day.

It also meant that Armin and Marco wouldn't quit pestering him about a Halloween costume. Jean hadn't dressed up for Halloween in years, and even when he had, they couldn't afford any good costumes, so he had never really liked it. All considered, it wasn't that surprising that he had absolutely no idea. He wouldn't dress up at all, but the other two insisted, and it was really hard to turn the two of them down. They were just so hopeful and excited, like weird, bald, giant puppies. Wait, that was weird again. Not like weird, bald, giant puppies at all.

Right now he was sitting with on the benches at the front of the school, where they usually waited for their classes to start. "Isn't fall just great? It stops being so hot and then you can actually go outside without having a heat stroke." Armin gushed beside him, sipping a cup of coffee from god knows where. How he managed to wake up early enough to look so well groomed and have the time to run into town for coffee before school started was a mystery. How he managed to not be tired and grumpy on top of all that could only be a miracle. Of course, since it was Armin it was entirely possible that he was only pretending not to be grumpy, since he was pretty good at faking emotions anyway. Really good. It was hard to think that the bubbly kid next to him was the same one that had been screaming and crying into his shirt so recently. Obviously he wasn't better, problems like that didn't just fix themselves overnight or in a month. So obviously he was faking at least some of the time.

"I guess so. I mean I'm not looking forward to it being cold, but it's nice not getting home as a giant sweat ball." Jean shrugged. It was nice seeing him happy, whether it was real or not.

"Right, because you walk home. As always I would be happy to give you a ride. Especially with it getting cold and all. Wouldn't want you to loose a toe to frostbite or anything." He frowned when Jean laughed. "Hey, it sounds like a joke, but I'm completely serious. We can get quite a bit of snow around here. And since I doubt you have snow boots, that is a very real possibility." He explained, very casually, as if it wasn't a weird and sort of gruesome topic at all.

"Your indifference is disheartening at best. Here I thought you cared about my toes."

"I do care!" He giggled, giving him a playful shove with his shoulder. "I care so much that I'm willing to illegally drive you to and from school every day. I probably care more about your toes than anyone else in this whole school."

"Wait, it would be illegal?" He was shocked, honestly. Of all the people to be participating in illegal activities, he never would have guessed it would be Armin.

"Well, only until November third, then I'll have the least restricted license. Plus the going to school with a passenger part is perfectly fine, so it's only half illegal. And no one would know unless they like pulled me over while I was on your street because your house is totally on my way." He explained hurriedly. "I take driving very seriously you know, I wouldn't do anything I could get in trouble for."

Another sobering moment with him. Every time you thought that he was okay with little things like driving, you got slapped in the face with the reminder that he was definitely not okay with driving because his best friend _did_ die in a crash just a little bit and also he had been driving sort of illegally. So yeah, it wasn't surprising that he was so damned careful when he was driving or that he felt such a strong need to justify his driving illegally. "I know, I'm not trying to be judgmental or anything, I'm just saying, all the more reason not to drive me until November third. Why November third?"

"Oh, because it's my birthday, and then I'll be old enough for it."

"Your birthday? I'll have to mark it down on my calendar!" He exclaimed. "I'm totally kidding though, I don't have a calendar. You_will _have to remind me though so I can say happy birthday on your birthday. It defeats the whole purpose of it coming once a year if I say it at the wrong time."

"You have a point. But it's over a month away, so you have time to come up with a whole speech." Armin teased, snorting into his coffee and causing a whistling noise through the mouth hole. "I expect nothing but the best."

"You know, low expectations are the secret to being pleasantly surprised." Jean shot back. It was his own personal secret to never being disappointed. After all, if he started out every day thinking 'I'm going to be hit by a car and lose the ability to walk' then whatever else happened would be pretty good comparatively. It was like magic.

But of course, Armin pretended not to get it. "What are you trying to say? It's almost as if you're implying that you wouldn't reach my expectations."

"Disappointment is inevitable with that mindset. Expect something small, like just the words happy birthday."

"So that you don't feel the need to make an effort? Heavens no. I'm holding you to a higher standard." It was funny, when they would banter back and forth like this Armin always ended up with this snooty fake British accent for no apparent reason. It probably had something to do with being a thespian, because he noticed that happening with more than just Armin in acting class.

"Well that's just unrealistic."

"Maybe, but who cares? I like unrealistic." He argued, huffing indignantly.

"Speaking of unrealistic, where do you get you coffee from every day? You don't even drive through town to get here." So what? He was going to completely change the subject to ask the coffee question that he had been wondering for like a month, sue him.

"Oh, yeah there's a gas station on the way."

And the disappointment sets in. Not that he was really expecting something exciting, but really? A gas station? He didn't even get to tease him for wasting time and gas going into town every day. He liked teasing Armin, he got all flustered and blushy and it was kind of cute in a totally straight sort of way. Yeah. "So you spend your money on gas station coffee every day?"

"Yeah? I mean I don't get school lunches so I'm actually spending less money on food then most people here. Coffee is only $1.26 and lunch is like $2.75 or something." He pointed out. A valid, but terribly boring point.

"You don't get school lunch?"

"No?" It was more a question than an answer really, like it was unbelievable that Jean would think he got school lunches, because those were obviously for people far beneath him. He could be almost as pretentious as Jean was sometimes. Seeing it from the other side, he figured it might be worth it to quit being like that.

"What do you eat then?" It was just asking for more of his snotty rich kid bullshit, but he had always sort of wondered what people put in their lunches. It wasn't like they could heat it up since the scool didn't have microwaves. With people who would just occasionally bring leftovers it was more understandable, but day after day of the same cold food? It just seemed unappealing.

"Lots of grapes, sometimes sandwiches. It's better than school food anyway." He shrugged.

Jean simply snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'll take your word for it then." It was weird sometimes how Armin thought things like that were normal. Jean could never afford grapes and sandwich stuff for every single day. Hell, he probably couldn't have afforded school lunch more than twice a week if he actually had to pay for it.

"Why, what do you eat?" He seemed a little defensive, which was sort of funny. No one really liked to be called a spoiled brat, especially not spoiled brats. Not that Armin was one, but he had an undeniable level of privilege that did make him a bit more spoiled than the average person. Or at least the average person that he knew, which was apparently the standard poor person.

"School food. It's free for me so yeah, that's good deal. Can't get cheaper than free." He smiled. "Sorry to bore you with my poverty and everything. Guess I'm just not as interesting as your usual companions with their money and fancy home lunches."

"That's it, I'm bringing you a school lunch tomorrow." He announced, slamming his coffee down beside him on the bench rather dramatically. It had to have been dramatically, right? No one actually did that. Especially not with that much force. And not over something as minor as bringing someone a lunch.

But as usual, he couldn't hold back his questions, even about something as minor as lunch. "Why?"

"Because you need to experience the wonder of not school food. Plus, maybe then you can stop whining about how you're poor and inferior all the time." Armin smirked. One thing about getting to know him was that he became significantly more sarcastic and rude. In the nicest way someone could possibly be sarcastic and rude, of course.

As well intentioned as he might be, that just seemed a bit backwards to him, which he tried to explain. "But that would ruin me for school lunches, and this is pretty much the only place I get to eat so... That would be bad."

"Nonsense, it'll just be a special treat for you." The other boy argued, shaking his head. It was pretty clear from the way he said it that he had made up his mind.

"Well I guess that there's no getting around it then, is there?" He sighed.

"Nope."

Well then, there was no use in being rude. He wasn't going to change his mind. Plus, he didn't actually have the same lunch period as him so if he really wanted he could just not eat it. That seemed awfully rude and pointless though. "Thanks Armin, I really appreciate your generosity. Even if in this particular situation I did not care to receive it."

"Any time." He nudged his shoulder, smiling his cute little happy smile. That smile that could make a puppy cry. Not that that was physically possible or anything. At least he didn't think it was. Whatever, it didn't really matter.

And all of a sudden he was jerked out of his own thoughts about puppy tears as the five minute bell rang, signalling that he really had to get moving because it would take at least that long to get to his class. He stood up and hefted his book bag up onto his shoulder. "I should probably head off, you know. Gotta get to class. I'll see you later." He waved, already starting to head off down the hall. He wasn't one for lengthy goodbyes, especially since they would see each other soon enough anyway. Heck, if it was a Tuesday or a Thursday they'd be going to class together right now.

"Okay, see ya!" Armin nodded in acknowledgement, though he made no move to get to his own class. It did make him wonder where that class might be, and if it was close enough that he could get there really soon or if he was just not motivated enough to go at all. He had a feeling that he would never stop wondering about Armin. Was it because he was a super interesting person? Was it just because he was the first person that he had ever liked and cared about like this? He may never know for sure.

* * *

Well he had one less thing on the list of wonders now. He knew for certain that Armin packed excellent lunches. He didn't actually know if the other boy had made the sandwiches himself, but they sure were good. This one had roast beef and pepper jack cheese on it, which was really good. Not that he didn't expect it to be, his expecting it to be was the whole reason that he had originally refused. Plus there was grapes and these things called veggie straws which were surprisingly delicious. As he had expected he was now rather reluctant to go back to school lunches. They were just so gross. Oh well, it was too late now. He had given up his chance to not eat it already.

"You've spoiled me rotten, you know. I'm ruined for normal lunches." He groaned as he walked into the acting classroom. Not that they ever stayed there, but that's where Mr. Brown took attendance. And for the first time ever they were the only ones here. It was kinda funny, acting was the one class that people could pretty consistently be relied upon to get there on time. Probably because it was the only class that was consistently enjoyable.

"And I'm so glad. You can't possibly go your whole school career without ever having a home lunch, it would be a travesty."

"That might be a little dramatic." He laughed. It wasn't all that funny really, but the thing about having friends was that even the stupidest things they said were funny. Also transitions in conversation were way easier. "Okay, this has nothing to do with anything but I have something I've been wondering all year." He started. He wanted to get it out fast, because it was sort of an awkward thing to ask and he sort of wanted to do it before someone else came into the room and was able to call him out on it.

"Shoot." Armin shrugged, calm as ever. Well mostly ever. His usual ever.

"Is..." He hesitated. God, he was making way too big a deal out of this. Other people surely would have had the same question before, it wasn't like he was especially stupid."Is Nanaba a boy, or a girl?"

The other boy squinted at him for a minute, considering the question. "No."

Because that was a nice straightforward answer. "What do you mean no?"

"I _mean_ Nanaba is not a boy and also not a girl. So no, not a boy or a girl." He stated, folding his arms.

_What?_ "That doesn't make any sense. I mean I'm used to lots of things not making sense but that _really_ doesn't make sense. Nanaba _has_ to be one or the other, come on."

"No, they don't. Not everyone has to conform to your archaic idea of gender, Jean. There is an in between. Gender is a spectrum." He argued. It was weird, he seemed genuinely worked up about this. Like it affected him or something. Plus it was pretty remarkable for him to be able to get worked up so fast.

"Whatever you say, man."

"I'm serious." He intoned sharply. "You need to respect their life choices."

"Okay, I do. I'm not judging anyone based on gender or lack thereof. I don't understand it, but I won't be judgmental. What I_am_ judging is the lack of better pronouns. They and them are both sort of plural, it makes it kind of confusing." Jean complained. Complaining was one of his greatest talents, after all.

"Right? It's a problem we talk about fairly regularly." He agreed, shrugging. "If it's frustrating for us, just imagine how all the people who actually need those neutral pronouns feel."

"Oh, are we talking about my lack of proper pronouns? Because I'm always up for a gripe fest on this particular topic." Jean hadn't actually seen Nanaba come into the room, but here they were, making Jean a little uncomfortable because their particular topic of conversation was potentially offensive and how much had they heard?

"Yeah, I hadn't ever really thought about it before but it should really be fixed." He replied, a little too fast

"Yeah. I mean at least english doesn't gender inanimate objects, but it's still a pain in the ass. I am a person, not people. It's just so confusing." They complained, rolling their eyes.

"Oh, my favorite controversial subject!" Marco had entered too, somehow managing to still be bright and happy even though he was complaining.

Well, clearly this would be the topic of conversation for the day, at least before the bell rang and real class began. Right now they were working on skits of their own design. Unsurprisingly, Lexi and Nanaba had elected to make their groups a love story that ended with straight guy Brad, played by Jean, finding out that Taylor, played by Armin, was not in fact a girl as he had thought. It was stupid, but it had a good plot, and Lexi and Nanaba just added to the confusion because they were friends with both of them and it was actually pretty hard to explain. But it was pretty funny.

Anyway it was a pretty interesting conversation, but luckily no one had the audacity to deny the necessity of gender neutral pronouns, so things stayed pretty chill actually. Although it might have been more fun if things had gotten a little heated, because he sort of liked arguing every now and then, especially with people who he knew would probably not hate his guts for having a different opinion than them. Well, probably.

* * *

The class had barely started when Jean was called to the office. It was unusual for him to be called anywhere, since his dad didn't just take him out for spontaneous days off or anything, and he was fairly certain that he didn't have any sort of appointment. Either way, there was no sense in questioning it. It was highly unlikely that there would be another Jean Kirschtein at this school, so they had to have been calling for him.

He took his time going to the office. Not that he wanted to waste his time avoiding acting, but he was just feeling very relaxed today and he wanted to go at his own pace. When he did get there, the principal was looking at him with this weird sympathetic expression that made him feel slightly nauseated. Mr. McGlinn never looked sorry for anyone, he was constantly angry. For something to move him to sympathy, it would have to be_really_ bad, and that made him really nervous about what was going on.

"Why don't you step into my office, son." He spoke in his deep gravely voice in that weird fatherly way that older men tended to talk whenever they felt really bad for a kid. God, he didn't even know what was going on yet and he already felt like he was going into cardiac arrest. Still, he swallowed past the nervous lump in his throat and passed Mr. McGlinn into his office. His office, where incidentally a vaguely familiar woman sat with an equally sympathetic expression. What the hell was going on?

"Hello Jean, I'm Mrs. Bliel, the counselor. You may have seen me around?" She had a very quiet sort of soothing quality to her voice, like she was trying to keep him calm, which actually made him even more worried. Why was it necessary to calm him down?

"I don't know, maybe I have. What's going on?" Despite his effort to keep his tone even, there was a definite strain that he could hear and he was quite sure that she could too.

"I think you should sit down."She told him, softly but firmly. Absurdly, she got up when she said it, which set off even more of a fight or flight reaction inside of him. He knew it was stupid because she obviously wasn't going to attack him or anything, but he couldn't stop his body from recognizing that something sort of serious was happening here and he was a little bit terrified.

Still, he concentrated on forcing his legs to take him to the chair across from the one that she was standing in front of, and then making his knees bend. It was a rather ungraceful way to do it, but right now wasn't the time to be thinking about that, because she was sitting back down now and he was about to get the bad news. Bad news, because it seemed unlikely that it could be anything else with the way things were going right now.

"We got a call from AMD Energy today." She watched him with her dark eyes, gauging for a reaction, and for a minute he couldn't think why. Why would he care if some stupid power company called? That was, until he remembered that that was where his dad worked now. It was so hard to remember sometimes, since they moved so often. As the seconds ticked by he couldn't hold back the anger bubbling up inside of him. Why wasn't she just telling him to get it over with? What could possibly be bad enough to justify their grim faces? Had his dad died or something? It seemed the most logical option, but at the same time he couldn't allow himself to believe it, not without definite confirmation, which was why he was angry. She was just drawing out the suspense. "It seems that your dad had to be taken to the hospital."

The hospital, that wasn't good. Then again, it wasn't as bad as it could be, since that implied that he wasn't dead or anything. At least he was alive. He tried to focus that as he asked the obvious question. "What happened to him?"

"Well, no one really knows. They think it might have been a heart attack." Mrs. Bliel explained.

"How could he have had a heart attack?! He's only thirty four!" His dad was one of the youngest parents that anyone in his grade ever really had, and to think that he could have a heart attack? It was just ridiculous. That was the kind of thing that happened to the old parents, not_his_ dad.

"I'm sure they'll know more at the hospital by now. You can find out when you get there."

"But how am I supposed to get there?! I can't drive!" He was really starting to freak out now, how the hell was he supposed to get there? And a heart attack was pretty serious, so even if that wasn't the final verdict then it had to have been something pretty bad. How could they afford that kind of hospital bill? With his dad's income it would be hard to pay for everything, especially if he wasn't going to be able to work for a while. Yeah, health insurance should help, but how much?

"Do you have any family that could take you?" She asked, in that annoying, soothing voice of hers.

Did he have any family? He would have laughed if he wasn't already struggling to breathe. "No, I don't have anyone."

"No friends with licences?" The counselor persisted, apparently choosing to ignore his emotional distress. Not that it wasn't for the best that way, it wouldn't have really done any good to let him freak out and waste what little time they had left of the school day. So, he tried to press on too.

"I don't know, maybe?" Jean could hear the whine in his own voice, however hard he tried to hide it. Well, there was no helping it, this was as calm as he was going to get given the current situation. "I think Marco might." He went on. Armin wasn't really an option since he could only go to school or home and even though he would probably have been willing to break the law for something like this, that really didn't accomplish anything. What if they did get caught?

"Would you like us to call Marco in here?" She offered, already looking up to the door.

"Uh, yeah. That would be great." He nodded, distractedly. His mind was racing now, jumping from one problem to the next. What if his dad was seriously injured? He couldn't go back to work, and if he couldn't work then they wouldn't be able to afford the rent for their stupid tiny house, and then they would have to move again. But where could he find another job with an injury? He wasn't qualified for anything other than the jobs that he usually took, which tended to be rather labor intensive. What if they couldn't get food? His dad didn't get free lunches like Jean did, and he was too proud to accept charity meals and food stamps. Maybe that would change if he absolutely couldn't afford to eat, but what if it didn't?

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice Mrs. Bliel had left until she sat back down. "I told them to call him, so he should be down here any minute." The counselor informed him. It was probably just something that she was taught to do when students were freaking out, but he had to admit, it was very helpful. He needed to be filled in on what was happening around him, it was pathetic.

And before he was even aware of time passing by Marco was there and he looked more confused than anything, but his concern showed clearly and it made Jean feel sort of bad, but that was stupid, because he couldn't help it if his dad had a heart attack- if it even_was_ a heart attack.

"What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine." He answered, reassuring himself as much as he was Marco.

"What's going on?"

Jean struggled to form proper words. It really shouldn't have been this difficult, it wasn't like it would matter to him at all, it wasn't like he would be affected, it was a simple request for a ride, but still the words got caught in his throat and he couldn't force them out.

"His father has been injured." Mrs. Bliel interjected. Again, both helpful and annoying. Injured? He wouldn't really call a heart attack an injury anyway. He didn't know what he would call it. Why couldn't she let him talk for himself like an adult? Like yeah, he was struggling and taking longer than he liked, but he was sure that _eventually _he would have managed something. Then it would at least seem less pathetic of him. Really, failing to speak because his dad was in the hospital without even knowing if he was hurt? It was kind of stupid, even he could see that. Then again, Marco wasn't the type to judge someone for overreacting to their family members being stuck in a hospital. Jean didn't think that even_he_ would do that.

"Yeah, he's in the hospital." He managed to get out before Mrs. Bliel could continue. He wanted to at least deliver part of the news since he was the whole reason that the other boy had to be down here.

"Oh my god, is he okay?" That was the nice thing about him. Jean knew full well what his friend thought of his dad, but here he was, not being a dick about it and showing genuine concern.

"I don't really know, no one knows what happened to him. They say it might have been a heart attack, but you've seen my dad. He's way too young to have a heart attack." It all came out in a rush now, which was better because it didn't seem so much like he was trying to make everything more dramatic. It was more normal.

"But he's not dead?" Marco verified, looking at him with a more mild expression of concern now.

He wasn't sure why he hesitated to answer, but he did. "No." He finally answered, after a moment of tense silence.

"Good, that's good." He sighed, with what seemed like genuine relief. But knowing that did beg a second understandable question. "Do you mind my asking why I'm here exactly?"

"Oh, right. I need to get to the hospital and I was wondering if you had a license." He was a little scared because what if he couldn't take him? There wasn't much time left to find someone to take him. He supposed Nanaba could probably take him, being a senior and all, but they weren't really that close so it seemed kind of like he was imposing but really if he needed to then imposing didn't matter.

"Well yeah, I mean I have to be home by nine but kind of. I guess you need a ride?" Thank god, he really wasn't prepared to ask anyone else. No matter what he tried to make himself believe.

"Yeah... I'm sorry I just really need to get there." He wasn't actually sorry, it just seemed like the right thing to say. Didn't want to make it seem like he expected help no matter what. Marco did have the right to say no, after all. Not that he would ever do that because he was as far from being an asshole as one could possibly get.

Which he immediately proved, by the way, with his response. "No need to be sorry, I can take you there any time before nine, really. I just hope he's okay."

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

**So that was a much longer wait than I wanted but it wasn't really my fault because my laptop crashed when I had the whole thing done and was ready to start editing so I had to completely restart on this thing which naturally took a while. Anyway, things are going to really start getting interesting here and we'll finally get to Jearmin being a real couple and not lots and lots of denial from Jean.**


	10. Charity

As it turned out, Rob had not suffered from a heart attack, but rather a stroke. Not that a stroke was a whole lot better, but there was a difference. Like the fact that Rob's smoking habit and high blood pressure apparently made him an excellent candidate for a stroke. And incidentally it had been one bad enough to put him in a coma. On the bright side, the doctors were pretty confident that he would be okay, but on the other side, they didn't know when he would wake up and that left a lot of open time with no income.

It looked like their financial status was once again playing a part in their troubles. H didn't know if health insurance would be able to pay for the bills, and if it didn't then he didn't have any idea what might happen. Even with that looming doubt, it was hard to focus on anything but the possible eviction. The man they were renting the house from wasn't really what you would call charitable, and he had already made it clear that if Jean couldn't find a way to pay the rent by the end of the month then he better start looking for somewhere else to stay.

When he had told Armin about it, he had been so angry that he had insisted upon going and talking to him, but Jean had stopped him. It wasn't the landlord's fault that Jean had no money, and not everyone could just give things away for free. For all they knew, the guy might not have any other source of income right now. The job market was tough. In fact, now that he was actually trying to find a job, he was really starting to see the truth in that statement.

He knew that he had sworn that he wouldn't get a job except during the summer until after he got out of high school, but that was before all of this. Before he had been faced with the absurdly improbable situation of having to support himself while his dad was in a coma in the hospital. As it was, finding someplace who was even hiring was beyond difficult, and finding someone willing to hire a fifteen year old with zero job experience was basically impossible. So far he hadn't found anyone. Maybe he could find something like babysitting where it wasn't a legal business that wanted credentials, but it wasn't easy to find someone willing to let a complete stranger watch their kids. Especially if that person was a boy, because apparently babysitting wasn't a job that boys could have. It was stupid, but oh well. His irritation changed nothing. And with nothing changing, it looked like he was going to need to be ready to get out by Halloween. He was trying to look at the bright side of things. Like how his dad had paid rent on the day before he was hospitalized. It had bought him a whole month in their house, although living alone in a place like theirs wasn't the best. They couldn't afford a place in a very nice neighborhood, so he spent the first few nights waking up at every little sound. He had never realized before that having someone else there gave him such a sense of security. If there was a creak it was probably just his dad. Now he was actually needing to blame things on the house settling, which was a first.

Unsurprisingly, his friends offered help whenever they could. He had gotten several casseroles, which were apparently the thing that you gave to people in need. Jean thought that was kind of stupid. Casserole was the one thing that someone in too much emotional distress to focus on cooking_ could_ make by themselves really easily. Giving that to someone instead of chicken or broccoli or basically anything that wasn't made by taking cans of two different things and mixing them up seemed like a lapse in judgement. But he wouldn't turn down food, even if it was kind of sub par.

* * *

It had been almost three weeks, and still no luck. No one wanted to hire him. Not than he had been expecting them to or anything, but he had been hopeful. With one week left there truly was no way to make a last minute payment. It was just his luck to be evicted in a town where he barely knew anyone. He didn't even have any relatives to mooch off of. Like nowhere. Well possibly a grandparent on his mother's side but they had pretty much cut ties with her the moment they found out she was pregnant, so he seriously doubted that they would extend him any kindnesses. Plus they might be dead by now. If they were still alive then he would hate them even more than he already did because they didn't even bother to go to their own daughter's funeral.

"Do they have a shelter for homeless youth here?" They had a substitute in acting today, so everyone was pretty much just sitting around and talking. Jean happened to be laying on his back on the cold tile floor with his elbow draped over his face.

"I'm not sure. As of yet I haven't needed one." Nanaba answered. The two of them had gotten much more friendly now that Jean wasn't constantly second guessing himself about their gender. It took a bit of getting used to as far as not trying to find a gendered pronoun that was correct, but he was getting the hang of it. Knowing that using 'they' wouldn't offend them definitely helped out. "I would let you stay with me but I don't know where you would sleep. I guess we've got an open armchair in the living room. Also a crawlspace. Anyway, neither are acceptable living quarters."

"Do you not have a couch? That seems like it wouldn't work very well. Does your family just duke it out to see who gets the armchair?" He could understand if they didn't want him living at their house but he was still a little offended. Everyone had a couch. Especially people like Nanaba who wore fairly nice clothes and had an iphone.

"We do have a couch, but that's mine." Nanaba explained, "I mean you're a great guy and all, but I'm not giving up my bed."

"Why do you sleep on the couch?" Once again, their family didn't seem like they would be needing to have a kid sleep on the couch.

"Well the twins are old enough to have their own rooms anyway, and my dear parents don't really agree with my lifestyle; so they gave away my room. At least they're decent enough to limit the punishment to that. I don't really want to be homeless." Nanaba let out a short breathy laugh and nudged him with their elbow. "No offense."

"None taken, I don't either. I can't think of anywhere else to go. I'm sure Armin would let me stay with him, but I really just don't want to do that. I think it would end up badly. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, you know what I'm saying?"

"Aw, you're scared he won't like you anymore? That's so cute. He needs a friend like that. But I understand where you're coming from. Have you asked Marco?"

"Asked me what?" Marco had a knack for showing up at precisely the right time, and today was no exception.

"If he can stay with you for a while. You know, since his house is being taken away next week." Nanaba explained. Of course it was just like them to not give him a chance to answer on his own. To be fair, they were probably under the impression that he wouldn't have been completely honest because he didn't want to be a bother. Under normal circumstances that assumption would have been completely correct, but since he only had a week to find somewhere to live, things were a little different. "I don't have the room to take him in or I'd do it myself." They added. Probably didn't want to seem like a jerk, which was understandable.

"You know, I was actually going to ask you about that. We have a guest room, and I told my mom what was up. She said that she would be more than happy to have you stay with us." Again, he proved himself to be more considerate than Jean had thought he was, and that was saying something. He smiled at the apparent inevitability of it. Marco repeatedly proving himself to be considerate beyond what was reasonable.

"I was just planning on sitting around and freaking out about where I was going to go next week, but I think I can just cancel on that now." Jean laughed, fighting the urge to just hug Marco right there. It was such a huge relief to know that he had a place to say. He had always felt bad for homeless people who constantly had to worry about things like that, but now he had a new appreciation for not being one of them. "I don't have any money you know? I mean I'll keep looking for a job but if I don't get one then I can't help out with money."

"You don't need to. The whole point is that you'll have a place to stay free of rent. I mean you'll probably have to help out some with chores, but we aren't asking for money."

"Dude, you're the best. Like honestly the best friend I could ever ask for, thank you so much."

"Well if I didn't help you out then I wouldn't even be good enough to be called a friend, would I? Speaking of which, have you seen Armin at all today? I think he's sick. There's something going around, but I hope it isn't too bad. If he misses Halloween he's going to be pissed."

"He has like four school days and then the weekend, and then until Thursday. I'm sure he'll be back in time."

"Yeah, that's true. Armin isn't ever sick for that long. It happens a lot, but it's never really severe. Maybe we can hang out over the weekend. He'd be relieved to know that you found somewhere to stay." Marco pointed out. "In fact he's been kind of upset that you wouldn't accept his offer to let you stay over at his house. He said that you told him you didn't want him to get sick of you." There wasn't an openly stated question, but Jean knew what he was hinting at. He wanted to know if that was the real reason.

"You know me, I'm rude and abrasive. I don't think it would be good for him to be around all the time. I'd say something too rude and then he'd hate me forever."

"I don't think he'd hate you forever. The abrasiveness is what makes him like you so much. Eren was a total asshole half of the time, but Armin knew he was joking so they were great friends."

"Yeah, but they had known each other for a long time. We don't have that. We might not ever have that."

"Really, it isn't an issue. I don't hang out with your outside of school at all and I can pretty much always tell if you're serious. For example, if you're mean to somebody to their face then you aren't serious. With the exception of when they provoke you, I assume. You seem like a bit of a hothead." Nanaba butted in. It was hard to tell whether that was meant as an insult or an innocent observation. He decided to take it as the second one.

"Okay, but you're not Armin. He's sensitive, y'know? Even if he recognizes that when I talk to other people, he might not know it when I talk to him. I don't want to make anything more difficult for him." Jean felt that it was unfair that he had to justify himself, but at the same time he wanted them to understand. If they didn't then he just looked like an asshole, and he couldn't have that. The person who he really wanted to understand it was Armin. Jean didn't want to tell him the whole truth, because Armin didn't want people going out of their way to make sure they didn't offend him, but he wanted him to know that he hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't texted or called his friend in a while since his phone had been shut off, and while he knew that the other boy knew that, but he felt bad for limiting their contact. He would definitely be taking up Marco on his suggestion to visit this weekend.

Marco studied him for a while. "It's good that you keep him in mind like that, I don't think many of us do. He'd probably be better off if we did. I don't think too hard about what I say around him, I wonder if I've said something bad to him before. Something that hurt him, you know?"

"I seriously doubt that _you_ could've ever said anything to hurt him. You couldn't be mean even if you tried. Like if you had to steal ice cream from a little kid or else a bunch of puppies would die, you would just spontaneously combust because your very essence couldn't handle the situation." Really the concept of him doing anything remotely bad was absurd. Jean didn't understand how it was possible to spew out kindness and positivity like that, but he didn't think it would go both ways. He just couldn't be mean, no matter what.

"That's some interesting imagery there. I don't think it would work that way." He laughed.

"Yeah? Then what would you do in that situation?"

He considered the question for a moment, probably playing out every scenario he could think of in his head. "Probably steal from the kid, I mean I could always buy them a new ice cream, but you can never bring back those poor little puppies."

It was at that point that the substitute chose to walk over and see what they were up to. "What are you kids talking about?" She asked with an expression of horror. Apparently she had caught the part about killing the puppies. Just their luck, teachers only ever came over at weird points in a discussion, it was like they were incapable of walking over at any remotely normal time. It was probably a scientific law or something.

"We were just playing a game of would you rather." Jean lied. The other two hastily agreed, and after giving them a funny look, the teacher walked away without any further questions.

* * *

The weekend could not have come soon enough. Not because Jean was getting really anxious about finding out whether or not Armin was dying, because someone as logical as him would definitely not worry about that. No, the reason he was relieved was because of the incredible amount of stress he was under. Between the growing piles of homework, moving in with Marco, and visiting his dad in the hospital, he felt like he was ready to collapse at any given moment. He knew it was stupid, but he felt really guilty about staying with Marco. His dad had forbidden him to hang out with him because he couldn't stand charity. Jean had gone against that rule in just about the most dramatic way possible. He was practically never without him at this point, and allowing someone to live with them for free was probably the most charitable thing possible.

He was starting to see where Marco got his kindness from though. His mom raised them alone, but she was unbelievably kind and caring. With the way she treated him you would think he was her child. Well, aside from the part where he looked nothing like her. And Katelyn, Marco's little sister, was sweet, even if she was pretty ornery sometimes. On the second day he was there, she had taken her green markers and colored the belched part of his hair while he was sleeping, which was not only impressive because of the skill that would have been required to do that without waking him up, but also horrifying to him. Armin had hit the nail right on the head when he had said that Jean cared a lot about his appearance, and green hair was definitely not a part of the look he was going for. He had tried his best not to lose his temper and taken a shower right away. Thankfully it had washed out right away, but Jean learned his lesson. He now slept with one of the beanies that had been purchased for him on his head at all times.

Aside from that, living with the Bodt family had been lovely. They actually had food for breakfast, which they insisted that he eat. "It's the most important meal of the day!" Marco had pointed out. He told them he qualified for free breakfast at school, but they dismissed him, saying that he might as well eat with the rest of them.

On Saturday they left at about noon to go see Armin. Marco had texted beforehand of course, so they knew he was well enough to have visitors. He had only had a bad cold, which never would have been enough to get Jean out of going to school, but he decided not to mention that. Pointing out when people were lucky sometimes didn't go over well. People interpreted it as fishing for sympathy of devaluing their experiences, neither of which things were his intent, and he really didn't have the time to argue with people about what he had meant when he said something.

They pulled into his driveway and went to the front door, which was sort of weird because usually they were with him so they just used the garage instead. Anyway, they went to the front door where they were greeted by a very happy, albeit tired-looking Armin.

"Hey guys, it's nice of you to come see me!" He beamed at them. As usual the first thought in Jean's mind was that he hoped his enthusiasm was genuine and not the facade that he suspected it sometimes was. He wished he could just stop thinking things like that because he would be a lot less stressed and self conscious if that was the case, but alas, his brain was as stubborn on the matter as he himself was about nearly everything else.

Instead of voicing any of the many things running through his head, he responded with, "Glad to see you're not a snot-ball anymore." which was possibly not the most flattering or nice thing to say. This was exactly what he had been telling Nanaba and Marco about. He had called his best friend a snot-ball as a friendly greeting meant to convey the fact that he was happy for him that he was no longer suffering at the hands of a particularly nasty cold. Words, specifically kind and well thought out words, were not his strongest suit.

"You think you're coming to school on Monday?" Marco's question was really rhetorical, since he had said he was feeling fine now when the two of them were texting, but the politeness of it was a nice contrast to his own brashness. Well, probably. Unless of course Nanaba was right and that was the main reason that their friendship was able to begin.

"I'm totally fine now, and honestly you couldn't stop me if you tried. I have to be there for Halloween."

He hesitated moment before his undying compulsion to be right overpowered him. "Halloween is on Thursday though, not Monday." He informed his friend, probably needlessly.

As expected, his friend was completely aware of what was happening when in the week. "Yeah, but the whole week is important, you know?" He had no idea, actually, as he had never been a major participant in the whole halloween thing, but he decided to just go with it.

"Still going with He-Man then?" He wasn't completely stupid, he knew that the answer would be yes, but he liked seeing Armin talk about things he knew that he genuinely cared about, and this was a perfect and not t all upsetting topic.

"No, I'm actually thinking about going as Mordred from the Justice League." He answered, a look of false consideration on his face. "Of course I'm still going as He-Man! It's way too late to be changing costume ideas willy nilly like that. Everything is ready and perfect and it will be great and I will be fantastic and funny and possibly laughed at but mostly in a good way. People appreciate people who are willing to look like idiots to have a funny costume. It's super important to have at least one person do it every year, and I can't let them down. There's always that chance no one else will do something like that. It's a slim chance, sure, but still a chance." By the time he finished his spiel he was out of breath. That was another one of the irritatingly cute things that the guy would do. When he got really excited about something he was talking about then he would forget that he had to breathe, and then he would be forcing out the last words, and gasping for breath. It was stupid and adorable, and honestly just very refreshing because he was very rarely invested in anything at all. "And speaking of changing costumes, I know you weren't planning on dressing up, so I got you a little something." He didn't wait for a response, he just ran off and down the hall to get whatever it was.

Jean was speechless. Out of all the things that he was expecting to happen today, getting any sort of anything, especially a costume sort of anything, was not on his radar. He also wasn't sure what to expect. He hoped it wasn't anything too expensive, he really did hate people spending unnecessary money on him. Luckily for him, the costume that he brought back was far from high quality. In fact, it was much lower quality that he ever would have thought possible from someone as enthusiastic about halloween as Armin was.

Held up proudly before him was a plain white sheet with six holes cut out of it. That was four holes he didn't quite understand the purpose of. "Okay, check this out." He instructed them, excitedly. He threw the feet over his head, adjusting it until two of the holes were at his eyes so he could see, and then so that his ears could stick out. Jean still really wasn't getting the point, and it didn't really help when Armin stuck his arms through the remaining two holes. He did notice that there was a little extra room between the face holes and arm holes, so it would probably be possible for him to stand up straight, which was a nice touch. Then, the other boy pulled out what looked like some kind of dead rodent and putt on his face. It wasn't until the strap was on, securing it to his face, and it was straightened out that he realized that it was a fake beard. A surprisingly short one that actually resembled a beard. He finished it off with a pair of Buddy Holly glasses. "So? What do you think?"

"I think this might be another one of those pop culture things that I don't know about yet." He confessed. He hated seeming like an idiot, but unless there was a recent thing about the ghost of a bearded Buddy Holly then he had no idea.

There was an audible sigh. "You poor clueless little thing." Armin shook his head. "A hipster ghost. See, so you have the most mainstream but also least mainstream costume ever. Everyone knows the classic ghost costume, but no one ever does it because it's like the lamest costume possible. So like you're being a ghost _because_ it's not cool, you get it?" He couldn't see his friend's face under the sheet, but he could hear the expectant smile in his voice. And he really hated to let him down.

"You are a certifiable genius, you know that? A hipster ghost, that's perfect!" He lied. Hopefully it wasn't as obvious as he thought it was. Everyone in his acting class did say that he was a better actor than he thought he was. "Armin, you're the best. Thank you so much, I really wasn't expecting you to get me a costume, let alone make one." It was true, he hadn't. Sure, the blonde was really into Halloween, but he hadn't really thought he would care enough about his favorite holiday enough to make someone else a last minute costume. Then again, what else was he supposed to do when he was sick?

"I try." Armin shrugged as he pulled off the sheet. He was grinning from ear to ear though, obviously proud of his accomplishment. He really did look like he was fine, based on the way he was acting, but it was obvious that he was still recovering from his cold. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his nose was all red and you could hear how stuffed up he was. "Anyway, I was thinking that maybe we could go over and see your dad today, if you wanted. I have Halloween stuff that we could decorate his room with in case he wakes up. You know, so he can feel all festive."

"Really? You want to decorate his room?" It was awfully dull in there. Plain white walls, white sheets and white blankets. It was completely boring. The only color in the room was a single brown chair in the corner of the room. It was there so that someone could pull it up and sit next to him, but none of them ever ended up using it because it seemed unfair for only one of them to sit. It wasn't like Jean could come here on his own, he needed someone to drive him, so there was always at least one person with him. He could have gone alone if this city had a halfway decent public transportation system.

"Of course I do, it could use some brightening up. Some skeletons and pumpkins and stuff would make it way less boring." Armin assured him. "The whole generic hospital room thing is half the problem, who wants to spend time there? Especially since he's unconscious. I mean, I don't mind hanging around, but it's like 20 times more depressing with nothing around to look at, you know?"

Jean had been self conscious about taking them with him the whole time, worried that they would be bored and wanting to leave the whole time. Even if it hadn't been his friend's intention, he had just confirmed his concerns. "Yeah that would be great! And it would be more entertaining if we were decorating the whole time. We don't need to stay longer than it takes to finish it, there's really no point in being around afterwards. Until he wakes up there's really no need to be around him at all."

"Dude, yeah there is. It makes you feel better to check up on him, and hat's totally normal and cool. Heck, if you have to see him for an hour every day then that's fine as long as it helps you handle things. It's a stressful thing to have a loved one in a hospital, and he's your dad man. That's your only parent, and you don't have any siblings either. He's the only person you're used to living with." Marco argued. "Plus, I think that this is the best time to see him if I'm taking you. He'd probably be pissed if he knew about what's going on with us."

That was true. Jean wasn't sure if his dad would need to stay in the hospital at all after he woke up, but if he did then he couldn't visit him with Marco. His dad held grudges. Although, if he didn't have to then he didn't know what would happen, it's not like they had a house to go back to, so he would have to stay with someone too. The whole situation was honestly a confusing mess. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't know what's going to happen when he recovers. We might have to move."

They should have already been aware of that, knowing him and his financial situation, but his statement clearly made both of them uncomfortable. In almost perfect synchronization, the two looked down at their feet as if they were suddenly very fascinating. It made him a little sad that saying something like that was enough to make them react like that. None of them could do anything to change his situation, so why bother moping around about it? Moving wasn't that big a deal anyway, he did it all the time and he was perfectly fine. Not that he had ever had anyone to miss in any of the many places he had been before. This was different in that way. But really they should all just appreciate their time together while they still had it. Even the two of them, who he assumed had both lived here most of their lives, should know that you have to appreciate things while you had them.

"Well, you don't know for sure yet. Maybe there'll be something else, like an apartment or something." Armin suggested.

Apartments were what he and his dad had been looking for when they first got here, but there were only three complexes in town and only two were remotely affordable for them. And even with the two of them, there was no guarantee that one would be open when they were looking. It just wasn't that easy. Instead of actually saying any of this, he shrugged and agreed. "Yeah, maybe."

"Well, we should probably head out, shouldn't we?" Marco changed the subject. "I mean, if we want to be there and finish decorating before lunch. I was thinking we could all go to my house and have dinosaur chicken nuggets. Really who doesn't love those? And we could watch a movie."

"You're right, let's go." Armin wrapped the sheet around his arm, the beard and glasses probably folded into there somewhere. He handed the bundle to Marco and rushed away to get a plastic bag of plastic decorations.

There was very little delay before they headed out to go to the hospital. It was a fifteen minute drive to get there, and it took almost that long to get a parking spot and then to get to his dad's room. When they were there, it was easy to get to decorating since there wasn't a lot of distraction. Even the man in the other hospital bed was silent too, as always. Either this was a coma room, or that guy's sleep schedule lined up perfectly with their visits. Whichever was the case, Armin took one of the little plastic skeletons and hung it off of his bed too, and added a bright orange pumpkin on his bedside table. It was nice of him, and the added color really did brighten up the room a little. It was still a hospital, but it was better. Even so, leaving was a relief. It always was.

The atmosphere in hospitals was always tense. Lots of people there were worrying about their family, that was normal. It always creeped him out a little bit though, being in a building full of the sick and dying. He wondered if anyone had ever died while he was there. What if someone had died that day? There was an average death quota for the day, and it scared him to think that his dad was one of the people hanging in the balance of that. Then again, statistics about people dying had always freaked him out. For example, on average .06 percent of high school students died in the course of a year. Every time he went to a new school he found out how many people that meant statistically had to die and then he always felt this awful morbid sense of relief once the quota had been reached. At his current school 1.2 students had to die every year. No one had died yet, but those averages had almost never been wrong before. He did the same thing with his dad's work and age group in a town. It was almost impossible to know if his dad was still in danger, but having a number felt good. It made everything more certain and dependable. It made it seem like he knew what to expect. That was probably crazy, but he couldn't help it.

As always, the drive home was mostly silent. Jean never had a lot to say afterward, and he had a feeling that the other two were trying not to say anything that might upset him. Since they didn't really know what might upset him, it was safer to say nothing at all. He liked that though, both the sensitivity to his feelings and the silence. Distractions were great, but he also needed time to sit and think about how worried he was about everything without having to feel guilty about it.

When they got to Marco's house they put the chicken nuggets in the oven before they got around to picking out a movie, which is what really got them talking again. It came down to a choice between some James Bond movie and Captain America. For Jean at least, the choice was clear. Who would chose James Bond over Captain America? Of course, he was sort of a marvel fanatic so that played ino it, but in general it was the better choice. Well, probably. He had never actually watched a James Bond movie, and he had seen Captain America several times already, but why risk finding something he didn't like when there was something he knew with complete certainty was good and familiar? He didn't really have to argue with them about it, and they decided to talk about their favorite movies while they waited for the chicken nuggets to come out.

The cooking time passed really fast, as did the movie. And then Armin went home, and before he knew it the day was over. He hated how free time passed by so quickly. It was so annoying. The next day he would have to finish homework and study, and then it would be back to school, which he had to admit was considerably more difficult when he was constantly distracted with other thoughts. The main thing that kept him going was the thought that maybe his dad would wake up soon and then all of this worrying would be over. But even that wasn't that comforting. Now that he had friends he didn't want to leave them. He hoped that they felt the same way about him. They had to. Either way, he would at least have this Halloween together. He could have his first really fun Halloween with them and make some memories before he would potentially leave forever.

* * *

**Yeah I really have no excuse for the long wait, I am so so sorry. I _did_ write four whole chapters for an original story, so I wasn't completely unproductive, but yeah I'm kind of bad about doing what I'm supposed to. Hey, I don't have school anymore so for a little while you'll get better updates.**


	11. This is Halloween

**WARNING: SUPER CUTE HALLOWEEN STUFF AHEAD (and also very brief mentions of self harm)**

* * *

The sound of creaky floorboards below him woke him from his sleep. He didn't really need an alarm in a house like this. The walls were thin, and he could always hear Marco walking around in his bedroom downstairs. Since he had never had one, Jean had always thought of attics as tiny crawlspaces above the ceiling since. It was the closest thing he had ever had to an attic. The Bodt's spare room wasn't like that at all. Sure, the ceiling was low and slanted and came to a point in the middle of the room, but he could stand up straight for about four feet in either direction along the middle of the room. Actually, the slanted ceiling was really cool. Katelyn had decided that he needed a blanket fort to truly feel at home, so she had gotten sheets and scarves and hung them from the ceiling in all directions so that it felt like some weird patchwork tent. He knew she partly did it for the fun of it, and so she could see it, but he still appreciated it. It made him feel more loved, knowing that a little girl who at that point had never met him before would make an effort to create something cool for him.

Today was Halloween, and he decided that he should eat and take care of his bathroom needs before he got changed out of his pajamas instead of getting dressed first like he normally did. As much as he liked the idea of a costume that took almost no effort on his part, he did see a slight issue in the fact that it had no mouth hole. He still wasn't sure how he would eat lunch with it on, but he would figure out. For now, he had to get ready.

Luckily for him no one was in the bathroom yet, so he could take care of that right away. He always had to brush his teeth before he could eat anything, because he couldn't stand the taste of his own morning breath. After that he ate a bowl of yogurt with granola cereal, which happened to be his favorite thing that they had to eat here so far, and headed upstairs to get dressed.

Jean had to admit that he was a little stumped. Was he supposed to wear skinny jeans under the sheet, or attempt to tuck it in so they were more visible? He decided that the first way would be easier, and after putting on the sheet so his bare arms stuck through, decided to put on one of his plaid shirts over the top instead of underneath. He really didn't feel like taking the sheet off and readjusting it if he could help it. After that came the glasses and beard which looked really stupid actually. He preferred his own glasses-less beard free hipster thing to this, even if this was more accurate. After scrutinizing his reflection in the mirror for a moment he decided to put on his beanie to cover his ears. He looked kind of ridiculous with them sticking out like they were before, with the excessive amount of accessories hanging on them. He looked like ghost dumbo.

Almost as soon as he had gotten down the steps, he was attacked by a ten year old dressed as Hermione Granger. Katelyn had slept with a bunch of little braids in her damp hair, courtesy of Marco, and now her normally stick straight hair was wavy. One side was pretty tame, but the other was a frizzy mess, which was probably what she was going for, if his recollection of the books was correct. "I can defeat ghosts like you with magic!" She exclaimed, holding his waist with a death grip. There was something sharp digging into his side, probably a wand. Whatever it was, it was hurting him. "I don't know how yet, but you're evil, so there has to be a way!"

"Aw, Katelyn, I was only halfway done making it frizzy." Marco stepped out of the bathroom with a little pink plastic hairbrush in his hand. He at least, looked as tired as Jean felt. How his friend's little sister managed to have so much energy so early in the morning was a mystery to him. He may have always gotten up early, but at least he was groggy for a while. This girl was a never ending supply of energy. If only they could sell the secret of being like that, they could make tons of money. "Let Superman brush your hair." Until last night Jean hadn't actually known what his friend was planning on being for Halloween, he just knew that he had to be planning on being something. Now, seeing him in his costume, it was funny. He was far too skinny and freckly to be considered an accurate Superman, but knowing his personality he couldn't think of anyone more like him. After all, how many sixteen year old boys would help their little sister get ready like that?

"But first we have to kill the evil hobo ghost!" She insisted, as she tightened her hold around Jean.

Carefully, Jean removed her hands. "Except they never give any way to kill a ghost in Harry Potter. At best you could find a basilisk and petrify me." He pointed out. It _had_ been a while since he had read the books, or watched the movies for that matter, but he was pretty sure about that. The closest they had gotten to killing a ghost was that time Nearly Headless Nick was sort of petrified and they had to move him with a giant fan.

"Yeah Katelyn, he's a ghost, he can't die again." Marco agreed. "Now come on and let me finish, we have to leave soon, and then who would make your hair look this good?" Jean didn't think that was much of a threat based on how horribly frizzy he had made her hair, but it worked. Katelyn let out a squeak and ran to past him into the bathroom.

"Getting into character? Helping little girls do their hair is pretty Superman-y." Not that it was a big departure from his normal personality, but the good guy thing just fit so perfectly. Jean found it hard not to tease him at least a little bit. Not that comparing somebody to superman could really be considered proper teasing. It was more of a compliment than anything else. Who wouldn't want to be like the first ever Superhero?

"If you're gonna dress the part, you gotta play the part." Marco shrugged. Jean thought that the pink plastic hairbrush was a perfect addition to his outfit. It added that special something to create a perfect moment. One that could sum up a person's entire personality in one image. "I won't be much longer, get your stuff in the car."

He had to admit, he was a little nervous going to school dressed up like this. He had to do it, because Armin was expecting him too, but the last time he had dressed up for Halloween at school was when he was a toilet paper mummy in the third grade. He wasn't sure what to expect. Did a lot of people dress up around here, or would it just be the three of them? He didn't want to be one of those weirdos who still acted like a little kid. He hated people like that. To be completely honest, he didn't even get them. Why did they act like idiots? And how on earth were they confident enough to make such morons of themselves in front of everyone? Regardless of what the cause was, he wasn't about to become one of them. Fortunately Armin and Marco both seemed cooler than that. Maybe lots of people dressed up in this town.

As always, it was a reasonably short drive. When they arrived, they pulled into an empty spot in the parking lot that was far away from the doors. Perfect, he would get to walk in front of everyone for even longer. On the bright side, no one could see his face, so anyone who didn't know he rode with Marco wouldn't know it was him. And besides they couldn't judge him on what character he had chosen to be since he was just a slightly less generic version of the generic ghost. It would either be funny or stupid, nothing else. Well, at least nothing worthy of ridicule.

* * *

"Oh my god, it's perfect! I really like the shirt over the sheet, it's even more stupid looking that way. And the hat!" They met Armin in the library as soon as they got there. While Jean was appreciative of the positive feedback, it was really hard to take him seriously dressed like he was. Between the purple tights and short shorts, and the hot pink vest, he looked as far from being a serious and respectable person as he possibly could. He did fit the character, albeit a shorter and wimpier version. Then again. that was really what made it funny in the first place. Seeing him did have one benefit. Now he knew that there was at least one person looking more like an idiot than he did. Not that he wanted Armin to be made fun of, but he couldn't change it if he was, and he had to admit that of the two costumes, a ghost was much less likely to be mocked.

"Oh, you know how it is. Anything to look better, right?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "You already know that."

"True, but who'd have thought it would apply to a hipster ghost Halloween costume?" He pointed out. His unabashed agreement with Jean's insult to himself was a bit surprising. Apparently he was not the kind of person to lie about someone's personality to make them feel better about themselves, or at the very least feel less like a pretentious jerk. So it was a little rude, but Jean didn't mind the honesty. What he did mind was that he had so willingly agreed with him when he had meant the statement as a joke.

"I never knew you were so harsh, Armin. To stab me in the back using my own sense of humor, you're truly an unforgiving opponent." He regretted his word choice immediately, since the word opponent implied that they were engaged in some sort of fight, which wasn't true. His regret was not because he didn't want to imply that, but because he didn't want to give the other boy something so easy to correct when he had basically just challenged him to an argument. He had just signed off his defeat as soon as he opened his mouth.

As expected, he got the single raised eyebrow from Armin that always signaled that he was about to come up with some kind of serious comeback. "Opponent, huh? You don't stand a chance against He-Man."

"Yeah okay opponent wasn't what I meant." Jean allowed. "But even if it was, then a ghost would totally win. He-Man can't defeat a ghost, because ghosts don't die and they can go through walls and stuff so you can't trap them either." If they were going to have this argument then he was at least going to make his own points. Besides it wasn't like he was making things up, these were like basic ghost rules. It was pretty much impossible to beat a ghost in a fight because they weren't even solid when they didn't want to be. Unless you had some kind of ghost hunting equipment, which he was pretty sure He-Man didn't, then you didn't stand a chance.

That received a snort. "Jean, you're not even a real ghost. You're completely solid, and you have limited visibility with that sheet on, so he could totally beat you."

Jean was utterly taken aback by just how ill thought out that comeback really was. "Okay but if we're talking about ourselves and not who we're dressed up as, then I could totally take you. I've got a height advantage, and unlike you, I've actually fought people before. I could beat you so easily you wouldn't even know it was over until you were done for." So he was exaggerating a little, but he _had_ fought people before, and won. He could definitely take on someone as small, frail, and clueless as Armin. Plus, he had long hair, and while he didn't like using unfair advantages, he could totally use that to his advantage.

"Woah, wait up. You've been in fights?" Marco had been letting them have their fun, but apparently this news was shocking enough to warrant a verbal response from him.

"Uh... Yeah? Is that surprising to you?" He suddenly felt self conscious about revealing something so personal. Although really they should have assumed that he had been in fights before. They already knew he had a short temper. Given that and the fact that he always lived in bad neighborhoods where fights happened sometimes, it should be pretty obvious that he would have been a part of it.

"Well, yeah, a little." The other admitted. "I thought you were all talk, just acting tough to scare everyone. No one here really knows you well enough to know if you're actually serious. I thought you just pretended to be some tough fighter guy so people wouldn't try to mess with you."

"And what, I can't be lying now? If I'm such a great pretender that I can make everyone think I've led some totally different life, what makes you think I was telling the truth when I said I had been in fights just now, and not before?" He wasn't trying to contradict himself, but he really was curious. He had been telling the truth the whole time about all of it. Why was now more believable than any of the other times that he had said or hinted at anything involving him fighting people? What made this different?

The other boy shrugged. "I don't know. I feel like you wouldn't use it as an argument if it wasn't true." If that was true, then it was a disappointing answer. If it wasn't, then he didn't get why he would lie to him. He decided to give Marco the benefit of the doubt. Probably he was just making a big deal out of nothing and neither of the other boys thought that his fighting history was a big deal at all. That wasn't out of the question. He did get pretty uptight about people judging him. It was one of the very few flaws in his personality.

So, on that note, he decided he might as well own it instead of getting all defensive. "Yeah, I've gotten in lots of fights. I'm pretty good. If I were someone else then I sure wouldn't want to get in a fight with me." He boasted.

"Right, because I'm sure you're the toughest, smartest guy around. You couldn't possibly lose against anyone." Armin agreed, mockingly. He never did fail to be a condescending little brat. But then again, that was part of what he liked best about him. And when he was teasing Jean he wasn't wallowing in self misery, and he did that way too much already.

"Well, yeah."

"So you think you could take on Mikasa?" He challenged, one eyebrow raised. So that was his point. Not just anyone, the one person who simultaneously scared the shit out of him and made him more confident of his own heterosexuality. She was an interesting person, and he _did_ want to get to know her better, but he wouldn't fight her even if someone was paying him to do it. She could probably kill him with no weapons and one hand tied behind her back.

"Okay, so I probably couldn't win against Mikasa, so what? No one could win against her." It was pretty much the truth, especially if she was fighting someone who hadn't seen her fight before and assumed that she was weak because she was a girl. That would be a terrible mistake to make against her. If there was someone out there who _could_ beat her then he sure didn't want to mess with them.

"So nothing, I'm just saying that you aren't some super human fighter. What can I say? I like proving that I'm right." He smiled, coyly. Jean often wondered if this was how he acted around everyone, or if he was actually flirting a little. Not that he would mind that, in fact, he often caught himself flirting back a little. Not because he liked him, but it was a fun little back and forth thing they had going. Or at least he thought it was. Either way it was how they ended up talking to one another without fail.

"Yeah? Well okay He-Man, you can be right this time around." He agreed. "But obviously I'll be right about something at some point. It may seem unlikely, but it'll happen."

Neither of them had been paying attention to Marco while they talked, until he snorted. "You guys are too much." He leaned back against the table with his arms folded, a great big smile on his face.

Jean looked over and saw Armin had averted his eyes. He couldn't see his face because his hair hid it from his sight, but he assumed that the other boy was embarrassed from that action alone. Why would Marco have said something like that? Jean could handle a harmless comment, but that wasn't the case for his friend. He was uptight about pretty much everything. It was just too careless a thing to say, he should have at least had the decency not to stay quiet since they were in the library where there were so many people. Then again, it really was a harmless comment, the blonde was just too sensitive.

Still, he gave Marco an exasperated look, to which the other boy only shrugged and shook his head, his smile remained in place. "I just mean that it's nice how close the two of you are. Your conversations flow really smoothly." He clarified. Not that it helped a lot to review their conversations like he would a skit in acting class, but at least he was making an effort.

"Thanks Marco, I like to think that my outstanding personality makes conversation a breeze." Jean bragged, hoping to ease the tension by once again making a complete ass of himself. Luckily for him, it worked.

"It's true, he's just that great." Armin agreed, smiling. His face was still a little red, but aside from that he was pretty relaxed. His face got so red so easily, Jean felt kind of bad for him. He couldn't even hope to hide it if he was embarrassed abut anything. Still, it was nice to have that visible clue to how his friend was feeling, it let him know when to drop certain subjects. "Anyway, are you two still on for tonight?"

"You mean for sitting around at your house and giving candy to all the kids who come by, while catching almost none of the scary movie that Marco picked out? I wouldn't miss it for the world." He was sort of kidding, but honestly the whole thing sounded very boring. What about those fun costume parties and pranks that everyone always did in Halloween movies? Sure, watching movies was good enough for most of the times that they were hanging out, but it was a holiday. The most stereotypically wild and crazy holiday for teenagers in the whole year, and for the first time he had friends to do something with. Staying home seemed like a bit of a waste.

Armin let out a huff of frustration. "Look, I'm sorry if you're disappointed, but someone has to give out candy or the house will get TPed or egged, and my parents are going to a party together. And the two of you sure as hell aren't having all the fun without me." It was a topic that they had covered already, and the blonde was sick of it by now. He wanted to be doing something fun too, but that just wasn't going to work out this year. Maybe it was best that he not do any of his usual Halloween traditions though, considering the fact that this would be his first time celebrating his favorite holiday without the best friends that he had known for nearly all his life. Jean wasn't really sure why Armin wouldn't at least have Mikasa over. It would be hard for her too. He was her brother after all. His lack of sympathy for her was actually getting kind of annoying.

"It's no big deal, that's about what I would do if I were on my own, so I'm not really missing out." He relented. "I'm just teasing you because you don't have anything more exciting planned for your favorite day of the year. I'm an asshole, remember."

"No you're not, you're super nice." Armin argued, his expression firm. He wasn't allowing for an argument, not that Jean was going to try to start one. He did like getting compliments, after all.

"That's true, I'm a great friend."

Marco opened his mouth to say something, but as he opened his mouth, the bell rang, telling everyone to get to class. He shook his head, having clearly decided not to say whatever it was that he had been intending to. "Well, I can't be late to class if I'm Superman, can I?" He slung his backpack over his shoulder and raised his hand in farewell. "I'll see you guys later."

Jean and Armin looked at each other, Jean once again having to turn his head all the way due to the tunnel vision caused by the sheet he was wearing. Their friend didn't seem to realize his mistake, and after a moment they took their bags and followed him to chemistry, which freckly Clark Kent had apparently forgotten that he had with the two of them.

* * *

By the end of the day, the hipster ghost costume had received a surprising amount of compliments. Apparently it was a perfect costume for a class clown type guy, which was what he would have wanted had he bothered to prepare a costume himself. He had to hand it to his little blonde friend, he was a genius when it came to costume making. Even his last minute lazy costume was a hit. Still, it was nothing compared to his own He-Man.

One of the things that Jean appreciated in this school was the lack of bullying. Not that he could speak for other students, but no one really messed with Armin. All the straight hyper masculine guys that in other schools would have done anything to hurt him verbally or physically, made due with disdainful looks, so he only got laughter or positive responses. The other boy made a mental note to thank Mikasa for the intimidation factor that allowed him to go through a mostly painless day.

As much as he hated people making fun of others, he did give Marco a fair amount of teasing for being so absorbed in his own costume that he hadn't remembered that his first class of the day was one they were all in together. Really though, how could they let something like that slide? It was too funny to ignore.

"Hey Supes, don't forget you're giving me a ride home. I know you don't want to be late, but I don't have a car." Jean teased him as they listened to the end of the day announcements.

"You know what, if you keep making fun of me like that you might just have to get a ride from Armin." The other boy threatened. Not that the threat was too intimidating, Marco didn't have a mean bone in his body, so threats just didn't work for him.

His face was hidden by his costume, but he doubted that the obnoxious snort of laughter had been able to be covered by the single layer of fabric. "Right okay, and after you leave you'll be right back, talking about how sorry you are and you saved a kitten from a tree while you were out and do I want it as compensation for making me worry."

Instead of answering, his friend and sort of foster brother just shook his head, his standard good natured smile on his face. "I really hope you don't think I'm as perfect as you act like you do, otherwise the first time I mess up you're going to be completely disenchanted with me. I'm not like the second coming of Christ or anything here you know."

It was the first time that he had ever openly said anything to indicate that he was uncomfortable with the way that they all treated him. He had spoken quietly enough that only Jean had heard him, but it was still a huge surprise. The other boy's freckled face was turned away, like he couldn't make eye contact after saying something so rude to what had been complimentary, even if it was meant in a teasing way.

Not for the first time that day, he was glad for the sheet covering his face. Without it, his friend might have turned back and seen his completely dumbfounded expression. If he was to be entirely honest with himself, he had never considered the way that his words would affect Marco. He had just assumed that the other boy wouldn't mind the flattery because he loved being complimented himself, and he couldn't imagine anyone else feeling any differently. The idea of being uncomfortable with being put on a pedestal from which he would surely fall was sort of understandable though. The recent development of friendships helped offer him a vague understanding. Here he was, being a jerk because he didn't get other people's feelings. He wondered if the other boy had been displaying any sort of signals that would have hinted at how he was feeling. Signals that would have gone right over his head because interacting with others was not his area of expertise.

The silence between them stretched out until the bell rang, when Marco sighed and picked up his bag. "Let's go. We need to stop by home before we go over to Armin's." He took a nervous breath. "Unless you'd rather just ride with him."

He knew that the correct thing to do would be to ease any awkwardness that the other boy was feeling over what he had just said by eagerly agreeing to go with him, but he really wanted some time to think about how to properly make up for the way he had been treating him all year. In order to do that he needed to talk to someone who knew him well and got along with him. Who better than his blonde companion? "I'll uh..." He wasn't sure he really wanted to say it, but he tried to steel himself to whatever reaction he might receive. "I'll think I'll just uh... Go with Armin..." He managed.

To his own credit, Marco accepted it gracefully, merely giving a strained nod. "Right, I guess I'll see you a little bit later then." He acknowledged. Without further ado, he turned on his heel and left.

Before Jean had time to reconsider his answer, Armin popped up beside him. "Where's he going off to in such a hurry? Is he just going to leave you behind again?"

"Yeah, he has to get something from home first, I'll just ride with you." He attempted to keep his tone casual, since that was the only thing that wold give him away. This costume truly was very effective in masking his thoughts and feelings from others. Normally his friend could see right through his expressions and body language, and so far today he wasn't having a problem with it. Well, not with faces at least, he still had to be careful about the body language part.

Clearly he did a good job though, because the other boy just smiled at him and grabbed his own bag. "Then let's go. Come on, my car's on this side of the school." He told him, excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for Jean to gather his things. And then, as soon as he was ready, he practically skipped out of the room. He had parked close to the doors, so within minutes they were leaving the school parking lot, a more dangerous task now that it was full of people than it usually was when he left, since he typically waited until after the buses were gone.

"You're excited." He observed, as the distance between them and the school increased. A car sped past them, apparently displeased with Armin's strict adherence to the speed limit.

"Well yeah, tomorrow is an inservice day. We can stay up all night." He explained, beaming. His happiness did make more sense, given that explanation. Not that it wouldn't have made sense if they still had to go to school the next day. Either way it was his favorite holiday.

Quite frankly, Jean had forgotten about that in all his worrying about how he would be treated if he dressed up. Now that he had been reminded, it brought up a serious question. "Hang on, if there's no school on Friday, does that mean that we can spend the night?" It hadn't occurred to him before, but really it would make a great deal more sense if they did spend the night since they could pull an all-nighter and eat candy and actually watch the horror movies. Maybe not, he wasn't sure what movie Marco was bringing, and besides that he had no idea how the two of them felt about horror movies. They could stay up though, regardless.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's the plan. If not then you guys are still more than welcome to stay over, my parents won't care if you're still there when they get home." He shrugged. "This is going to be great, I got caramel popcorn and stuff to make caramel apples with. I toasted some pumpkin seeds and there's leftover roast beef and potatoes too, so there's still some food that isn't complete garbage for you." Of course he would have a lot of food. If there was any sort of party going on then he would have plenty of options, without fail.

They spend the rest of the car ride in almost complete silence. The whole time Armin was humming a tune that Jean thought sounded like 'This is Halloween' which was kind of entertaining, mostly because he was smiling so broadly the whole time. He felt kind of awkward because he had to turn his head all the way to see what kind of faces he was making, but his friend didn't really acknowledge his gaze except to make a point of glancing around and checking his mirrors more frequently. Still, Jean decided that he would be taking off the sheet once they got to his house. He still loved the costume, but it was far too inhibiting to wear around the house with others, especially others who had already seen the costume.

* * *

Armin was not the least bit offended when he removed the costume, although he did put the glasses back on his face, saying that he liked them and that way he could be at least a little different looking from his usual self. Jean was perfectly okay with doing that, because he was seeing the appeal of dressing up. In his costume, it was like Armin had forgotten everything that was wrong entirely, and was just another happy kid on a day that he liked. Eren wasn't even on his mind. Jean liked him better this way than his normal self, not because he was like a different person, but because this was what he imagined Armin would have been like back when Eren was alive and he was genuinely happy and carefree.

Really, the other boy's excitement seemed to be contagious. Every time he squirmed around in his excitement and shared some other obscure fact about the origin of the holiday, Jean could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, and the slight pain of barely suppressed giddy laughter. He wondered if Armin was experiencing the same dull, pleasant ache as he was, and if he was enjoying it as much.

Sadly, the feeling did come with a desperate need to do something to physically express his excitement, which was a bit of a problem for him. He couldn't exactly jump up and down or act all excited, that would be awkward and weird since he didn't actually care about the holiday in the least and the facts were not nearly exciting enough to justify a reaction like that. He couldn't just hug Armin and spin him around in a circle, as much as he'd like to, because that would be really alarming and require an explanation, which might completely jerk him out of his euphoria. He managed to keep it all down to a possibly weird looking constant beaming, which was at least little enough of a reaction to seem reasonable.

"I'm just so happy!" The blonde finally exclaimed, as though it wasn't very obvious already. His unfortunate cat let out a loud displeased meow as he was scooped from the ground where he had been minding his own business, and lifted high into the air like on the lion king and spun around several times. His owner then hugged his struggling body to his chest, before a de-clawed paw to the eye caused him to relinquish the animal. "Wow, so rude." He groaned, one hand covering the injury.

"Maybe he secretly hates Halloween. He is brown, after all, he probably feels under appreciated because everyone likes black cats this time of year." He offered, watching the cat's tail disappear around the corner with a sympathetic expression.

"You're right, the poor little baby." Armin agreed, his free hand clutching his chest as though his cat's emotions were truly moving enough to make him sad too. He removed his other hand from his eye to reveal tears flowing down his cheek, probably due to being hit in the eye with a blunt furry object. "It's okay, Jean and I will love you any time of year" He cried dramatically.

Of course, the declaration was not enough to make the cat come back. He wisely stayed out of the room. "It's a shame cats don't care for being hugged, I'm so happy right now that I could just squeeze him for days." He sighed, staring wistfully at the empty hallway. "I could do anything actually. I could tear down this house with my bare hands, or crush a tree or something oh my GOD I just want to do something." He flailed his arms uselessly as he bounced around. "Do you know what I mean? I doubt it. I wish Marco would hurry up and get here so that we could do SOMETHING." His blue eyes burned with pent up energy as he looked up at Jean.

"I know exactly what you mean!" Jean jumped on the question with enthusiasm. "I'm dying here, can we like run around or beat up a mugger or something? Anything at all?" Given their conversation earlier in the day, he might be giving a flawed impression of how much he actually enjoyed fighting, but at the moment he didn't care. He would much rather express his desire to let off energy by hurting a stranger than mention that he would be more than okay with the whole hugging thing. Plus he kind of wanted to squeeze really hard and hurting people he liked and knew personally did not sound at all appealing, especially considering all the scars covering his friend's body. If there were any fresh ones he'd rather not touch him and risk opening up a scab and hurting him. It was better to just not mention it.

Without saying anything, and therefore not waiting for permission, Armin wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. He felt equal parts shocked and pleased. After a moment's hesitation he wrapped his own arms around the shorter boy's shoulders, since they were at his arm level and he was nervous to go any lower. He was hyper aware the other's blonde head against his shoulder, and his own rapidly beating heart. He wondered if the other boy could hear it, or if he could feel the intense warmth spreading through his chest, like someone had filled his heart with hot coffee and it was slowly being pumped through the rest of his body. Surely he couldn't. He hoped he couldn't.

All too soon there was a knock on the door, and they broke apart as Armin ran off to answer the door. He didn't even spare him a glance as he went. Jean fought down the terrible sense of emptiness as all the warmth vanished. It felt like someone had just ripped out his lungs and left him to find some other way to breathe. Even though he hated being dramatic, he couldn't stop the weak choking sound that escaped his lips before he composed himself and followed the boy.

The front door was still wide open, and the blonde stood frozen, silhouetted in the light of the slowly falling sun. Just outside the door, in his red cape and blue suit, stood Marco. Jean immediately saw the reason for his friend's shock, and he froze too. Marco wasn't alone. Beside him, framed in the doorway was none other than Mikasa.

* * *

After the initial shock wore off, and Armin was functioning enough to let the both of them in, things got really uncomfortable. Jean was unsure how to react, and allowed the other three, who were more familiar with each other, to talk. The only problem was that they didn't seem to want to talk. Marco was probably afraid that his bringing her would make Armin mad at him, which would quite honestly be understandable since he had been avoiding her for almost a year. That or he wanted them to talk since he had gone through the trouble of reuniting them. Maybe a little of both. Mikasa's expression was impossible to read, but he imagined that she must be waiting and feeling out the situation, wanting to see if her old best friend who she had been secretly protecting for all this time, was willing to accept her company.

Jean personally hoped that he would let her stay. She was tough, but she was also human. It was her brother that had died, after all, and then her remaining close friend had completely shut her out. Being rejected on what he assumed was the special holiday that they always spent together might be too much even for her. Her brown eyes were fixed on her friend, but instead of the normal aggressive stare down that he would consider normal for her, she was totally blank and passive. If he wasn't already aware of the state of their relationship, he would think she was actually relaxed, but given the situation he was pretty sure that wasn't the case.

Time passed by excruciatingly slowly and in complete silence. After what felt like years, Armin cleared his throat. "Mikasa, what are you doing here?" He inquired, voice shaking.

"Marco invited me to come over, I thought we could hang out like old times." She managed to keep her own voice smooth and even, matching her calm exterior. "I can leave if you want me to. I'd hate to intrude on a party that I wasn't meant to be a part of." She offered. Only the slightest waver in her expression hinted at the presence of any emotion inside of her.

There was a tense moment in which Jean truly believed that his friend would turn her away, but finally he shook his head. "There's plenty of food, so you're welcome to stay." He hesitated another moment. "If you want to, that is."

As well as he felt that he knew the other boy, it was difficult to tell what he was hoping for. Surely he would want his old best friend to want to spend time with him. On the other hand, after such a long time spent trying his best to cut himself off from her completely, why would he want to stop that now and act all chummy? Sure, it may have been a holiday that they always spent together, but he was clearly trying not to think about the past right now. That was how he was keeping in such a good mood. Bringing old times into it was bound to ruin the night. It was a shame, Jean was having such a nice time too.

Naturally, Mikasa did end up staying. It was hard to be mad at her for wanting to continue their tradition, but it made things more uncomfortable. Armin seemed to cling to him more, like a social crutch. Any time he was uncomfortable, he scooted a little closer or nudged him with his foot. Like he needed physical reassurance that there were other people here backing him up. If she was bothered by the fact that the boy she had been protecting from a distance for almost a year seemed scared of her, then she didn't let on. For the first time since Jean had met her, she seemed like a normal, happy teenage girl hanging out with her friends. She wasn't even taking the time to glare at him when he said something stupid, she was busy focusing on other things.

The night actually went very well. They immediately began their Harry Potter marathon, which was apparently a tradition, and when Armin's parents finally came downstairs in their costumes, they were noticeably happy about seeing that Mikasa was there. Not that they had seemed disappointed when it had just been Jean in their living room, but she was a welcome sight. They hugged her and fussed over her Wonder Woman costume for a few minutes, before Mr. Arlert finally was able to convince Claire that they really needed to go.

Within a few hours, the old friends were talking comfortably. She complimented him on his costume, and he asked her which Wonder Woman edition her costume was (it was Wonder Woman 41, which Jean already knew.) Before long, it was almost like he and Marco weren't even there, which might have bothered him if he wasn't thoroughly invested in the movies. Plus, it was good that they were getting along. If they could be friends again, that would be good for both of them. And there was no way that Armin would forget him even if they did start hanging out, was there? Sure, she was protective, but she could still see that their relationship was good for him. Then again, she was worried about him leaving and breaking Armin's heart, he knew that already. What if she started trying to wean them away from each other? Surely that was a little extreme, even for her. Once again, he was trying to make something out of nothing. He was being ridiculous.

Sometime during the fifth movie in the series, she told them that she was leaving. She was starting to get tired, she said, and she hadn't been prepared to spend the night. Besides, she wanted them to have some time to do whatever it was that they had been planning to do before she showed up. It was a little surprising for all of them, but they didn't argue. If she didn't want to drive when she was too tired, then that was more than reasonable. Besides, she was probably a little overwhelmed with the amount of time spent with the boy who might as well have been her brother, and who had been ignoring her for so long. It had surely dragged up some painful memories. If she needed time alone, they would give it to her. And anyway, that costume wouldn't be the best to sleep in.

"Text me when you get home." Armin called out the door to her. The seriousness in his voice made it less of a casual goodbye, and more of a signal that he was completely terrified that she would meet the same fate as her brother.

"You know I will." She called back, flashing him a confident smile. It was nice that she made such an effort to make sure that he didn't get too panic. It would have been more natural for her to just nod, or at the least keep a straight face, but she knew automatically how to handle hings with him. It was nice.

* * *

Apparently, the plans without her were to watch scary movies. Personally, Jean hated scary movies. Unlike some people, he didn't enjoy the adrenaline rush that came with being scared out of your wits by a movie. He couldn't just watch them without being terrified of demons or monsters or something terrible attacking him afterwards either. Then again, he also didn't like looking like a wimp, and both of his friends were perfectly fine with watching them. So, after they were sure that Mikasa had made it home safely, they started a horrifying film involving a little girl who was trapped in a well or some bullshit, and another involving really old phones and a lovely ringtone that he grew to hate. By the end of them, he was ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest sound. Unfortunately, he had drank a lot of water just to have something to distract him from the movies, and now that they were over, he had to pee. Oh, and all the lights were out.

He sat on the corner of the couch, too scared to even turn his head for fear that there was something behind him, trying to decide if he should go to the bathroom or just shrivel up and die. Of course, he knew deep down that his only real options were to suck it up and go to the bathroom, or to pee his pants right there, but he still put off the inevitable with his mental debate. Now, if there weren't so many damned uncovered windows, and if the back of the couch was against the wall like it should be, then it wouldn't be such a big deal to make his way alone through the dark house, but really there were way too many hiding places and ways to sneak inside. If it wasn't one of the creepy ghost children, then some Halloween serial killer could be getting in. At this point his bladder was just going to explode and kill him from the inside.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Jean finally forced himself to speak, knowing that once the words were out then he would have to face his fears and leave the room. As expected they both gave him confused looks.

Armin was the first to actually say something to him. "Then go to the bathroom." He said, as if Jean was a complete idiot for announcing something like that.

"Oh my god, I can't just go to the bathroom, I don't have an extra pair of pants, and pee would totally ruin the couch." He pointed out the obvious, hoping that maybe they would think he was funny and also hoping to delay the inevitable even for a second.

Unfortunately, Marco did not find jokes about peeing your pants funny. "Just go to the bathroom, son." He kept a straight face, and his use of the word son made it clear that he was serious. Marco was the only person he knew who used son like most people used full names to let people know they had overstepped boundaries. Girl, boy, child, old person, no one was exempt from being called son.

"Fine, geez." He raised his hands and stood up taking a hesitant step forward before stepping back and squirming uncomfortably. "I can't."

"Why not?" Armin asked in disbelief. Clearly he suffered from a fundamental misunderstanding of how horror movies affected normal people. So did Marco. Both of them were staring at him with rather sinister grins. Probably thrilled to find that their friend was such a wimp.

"Can you guys stop being all smug and actually help out here? Just like come with me so I don't die. I don't want either one of those creepy little girls coming after me, okay?" Jean stammered. He was painfully aware of the color rising to his cheeks, but he tried to keep on his best irritated expression. He wasn't going to let them know how embarrassed he was. Not that they couldn't guess, but he still had some dignity.

The blonde snorted. "Okay sure, I'll protect you from the scary little children." He subdued him, as he stood up. "Hey Marco, don't get killed while we're gone." He teased, as he led the way out of the room.

"Thanks, and also you're a dick." He managed. Now that he was trying to walk, it was hard to focus on anything other than his own bladder. Luckily, the bathroom wasn't completely on the other side of the house, but even so, when they got there he practically tripped over his own feet on his rush to the toilet. It was only when he had finished and was zipping up his pants that he realized he hadn't even shut the door, which was sort of rude on his part. Armin was not in the doorway, of course, so he assumed that he was waiting politely in the hall. With a sigh of relief, Jean washed his hands.

"You guys are both wimps." He heard Armin's voice from beside the door. He finished drying his hands on the fluffy towel and walked out the door, only to see Marco staring down at his feet in embarrassment in front of a very scrawny and exasperated He-Man.

"Oh, looks like you're just as bad as me!" As always, the brown haired boy was quick to jump on an opportunity to recover from having looked weakest, or at least bring his other friend down to his level of embarrassment. "Too scared to be alone? Afraid of the evil creepy demon monster children?" He teased.

"What, because you're better? Come on you big babies, I think it's time to go to bed." Armin called to them. He had already started to walk away, and the other boys scrambled after him. Jean thought it was kind of weird that he was the only one who wasn't scared. He looked so wimpy, he should be the one completely terrified from the movies. Sadly, in this particular situation, looks didn't matter, and the tall tough looking ones were the ones scared out of their wits.

Almost as soon as he laid down, Marco was snoring quietly. He was blessed with the ability to sleep easily, but Jean on the other hand was much to scared to let his guard down like that. Instead, he opted for casual conversation with his conscious friend. Namely about why on earth he wasn't completely terrified. "I don't get it, they're scary movies and it's nighttime. Everyone gets scared. That's the whole point of them. I get that maybe you wouldn't be afraid to be alone, but you weren't even turning on the lights. Are you just completely unfazed by them or what?"

There was a brief pause, and he wondered for a second if the other boy actually had fallen asleep already. "It's not that I'm not freaked out or anything, or like there's not that nagging possibility of one of those girls coming for me. Both of those still definitely happen to me too." He explained, carefully. "The difference is that it doesn't really scare me."

"What do you mean? How can that possibly not scare you?" Maybe he was being stupid, but that just didn't make any sense to him. Dying was something to be very afraid of, especially at the hands of either of the girls form the movies.

"I don't know Jean, it just doesn't. Go to sleep." He groaned.

Well, if he didn't want to explain it, then he didn't want to explain it. Jean wasn't going to force him into anything. So, he stayed silent. He was still wide awake, there was no way he was calmed down enough to sleep, but he pretended that he was. Even if he was currently terrified, it had been a good Halloween over all. More fun than any he had experienced before, at least. Not only had they gotten very few kids bothering them for candy, but they had gotten in a ton of movies and stayed up into the early morning. In fact, he might actually like Halloween, if they were all like this. Then again, once his dad woke up, he might never have another one like this. He might never be around here for any holiday ever again. He probably wouldn't even see his friends, if they moved. As much as he hated to admit it, he was kind of dreading what would happen when his dad finally did get out of the hospital. He wanted him to be okay, but he also wanted to be around his friends. Realistically, he wasn't going to get both. He'd just have to try and forget about it until it became a real issue. He just hoped it wouldn't be too soon.

* * *

**Wow, it took a while, but here you have it, the super special Halloween edition! It's almost twice as long as a normal chapter, actually. Be excited for the next one, it'll be great. Thank you to my best friend Miranda, for all the costume ideas. Literally all of them but Armin's were hers, she is a life saver. Don't forget to review, reviews give me life! Also a good reason to work on this instead of the actual novel that I'm also writing. But yeah, as long as I know people are waiting for the next chapter, I'll try to make this a priority. Also I like input, like ideas for improvement and stuff. If you have no input, opinions are also great, so tell me if you like it or think it's corny or whatever. Bye friends!**


	12. Confessions

**No trigger warnings here! It's just cute and fluffy and Jean is a loveable idiot as always.**

* * *

Sunday was Armin's birthday, and unfortunately Marco was at his dad's house for the weekend. This came as a surprise to Jean. Somehow when he heard that Marco's dad wasn't in the picture, he had assumed that he was completely absent. As he found out, that wasn't the case. Mr. Eddie Bodt had custody of both of his children every other weekend, which was nice he supposed, but it left him alone at the house with Mrs. Bodt. Being around a friend's mom for two days without said friend was really uncomfortable. It was only Saturday afternoon, and already he was dying to be somewhere else. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Denise, she was actually a very nice person. That was actually the problem, she was too nice. Every time he left the attic to get something to eat or go to the bathroom, she was right there asking if he needed anything. It was maddening. And not only that, the more motherly she acted towards him, the more he thought of his own mother, who had been a shitty excuse for a parent even before she died. He wished that she had been more like Denise. Along with the wish came an enormous amount of guilt and shame. How could he be mad at her for her shortcomings when she was dead? That had to be breaking the rules of the parent-child relationship.

If his phone was still on, he might call Armin and ask him to pick him up and have a birthday sleepover. Sadly, his phone wasn't on; an unfortunate consequence to not paying the bill for it. So here he was, stuck in his room with nothing to do. He had his bookbag, with it's books and notebooks, but that was about it. So far he had tried to engross himself in his AP World History book, but it was hard to stay interested. Not because it was boring, he was used to boring, but his mind kept wandering. Either he was thinking about his mother, and consequentially what a horrible son he was, or it was Armin clogging up his thoughts. That seemed to happen more and more often lately, and the more it happened, the more it annoyed him. Eventually he gave up on reading entirely and laid down on his back to stare at the sheet canopy above his head.

He understood that he could probably take down the sheets now, but he hadn't yet. It was nice to have, and it made the room more interesting. In fact, he had hardly went outside the canopy to the rest of the room during his time living here. That was mostly because his bed and the small dresser that held his clothes were inside the indoor tent meets blanket fort, but now that he had made that into a pattern for himself, it would seem weird to break it. He wasn't sure that he would like the emptiness and lack of color that would come with the sheets being removed from the walls. Kind of like he didn't like being alone in the house with Denise. God, he didn't understand why Marco hadn't told him about this ahead of time. He was trying to stop thinking Marco was perfect and everything, but this was still a huge surprise. A complete lack of forethought at the least, a lack of consideration at the worst. He doubted that the second option was the case, but what if it was? Maybe his friend was trying to make a point. He had just finished telling him that he wasn't perfect, there was always the slight possibility that he was trying to better display the fact by being genuinely rude. Maybe his usual policy of ignoring a conflict until it blows over wasn't the best choice, but how was he supposed to know that? It worked with his dad.

There were two things on his list that he needed to happen soon. The first, getting out of this house, was what he was focused on now though. He could use the home phone to call Armin, since he had the other boy's phone number memorized. The one thing holding him back from doing so, was that if he went downstairs to get it then Denise would probably see him. Not that she wasn't fully aware of his presence, but getting the phone and calling someone to pick him up might be a little rude. Especially since he hadn't said anything to her to indicate that he would be leaving or why. She would know that he was leaving because he was uncomfortable being here alone with her. His other option was walking, which would be fine with him, but he would still need a logical explanation as to why he was going on a walk and not coming back. Knowing Denise even as little as he did, he knew she would insist on driving him, and he really hated to impose on her like that. Plus, the less time he had to spend around her acting like he was her adoptive child, the better. The more she did it, the more angry he got. Not at her, obviously, but it was getting to the point where a harmless offer to make him lunch left him shaking with rage towards his own mother. After the rage came the crushing guilt. How could he be angry with her for being a terrible mother when he was such a terrible son?

Either way, he had to make a plan that wouldn't involve going through all of that all over again. He groaned and walked over to the window, which looked out over the front yard. The good thing was that Marco had a one story house, not counting the one room attic. If he really wanted he could jump off the roof and he probably wouldn't even get hurt. Then again, there was a chance of him getting hurt, and he really didn't want to have to explain why he jumped off the roof and broke his leg on the way to the hospital. Any other way out of the house would involve having to speak to Denise though. Out of all the rooms in the house, the two she was most likely to be in were the living room, or her bedroom, both of which were on the back side of the house. Right outside his window, the roof jutted out over the front porch. If he could lower himself off of the roof and onto the porch landing, then he wouldn't even have to fall and risk injury. It would also leave him dangling in front of the kitchen window for several seconds where he could easily be caught if she wasn't on the other side of the house like he hoped. Then there was the fact that he didn't really know where the railing began and ended, which would make things significantly more challenging. But it was Armin's birthday too! He had to see him. And he had to get out of the house without talking to Denise.

That settled it. As quietly as he could, he ripped a page out of his chemistry notebook and wrote a brief note. '_Going over to Armin's to spend the night. Didn't want to disturb you. - Jean_' He placed this note at the top of the stairs, so she would see it when she came to check on it next. In a plastic shopping bag (there were lots of those up here) he put pajamas, and a change of clothes, sadly forgoing his toothbrush since it was downstairs. Surely Armin still had the one he borrowed last time he didn't bring one, since he had been spending the night so often. It took a lot of effort to lift the window. Obviously they hadn't opened it in a while, if they ever had at all. He hoped that since the window was on the opposite side of the house from where she probably was, then she couldn't hear it unsticking. He listened for her footsteps just in case, but he didn't hear her coming.

Silently, Jean climbed out the window and onto the slanted shingle roof. He threw his plastic bag over the edge into the front yard and carefully shut the window. Now came the hard part. He inched his way down to the edge of the roof and peered over. As he had hoped, the railing was directly below. Getting onto it proved more difficult than expected. When thinking out the plan, Jean hadn't taken the gutter into account. It wasn't sturdy enough to hold his weight, so instead of slowly lowering himself onto the railing like he had intended, he had to hang on the very edge of the roof on his elbows and try not to put pressure on the gutter. He didn't want to damage it, after all. From there, he crossed his fingers, hoped for the best, and dropped.

For a second, he thought that he was fine. He landed on his toes and remained balanced for a moment, until he started to tip over backwards. His arms windmilled as he tried to stay upright, but it was already too late. He fell into the rosebushes, and his back was immediately laced with pain as the thorns made shallow cuts all over. He was out of the house, even if it wasn't as gracefully as he would have liked. He managed to clamber out of the bushes without completely destroying them, although he cut up his arms and legs even more than they already were in the process. With his bag in hand, he started the lengthy walk to his friend's house. The distance between Marco's house and Armin's was similar to the distance from where he had been living before, so he anticipated that it would take several hours to get there. In the meantime, he could think about things.

With all that had been going on, he hadn't had time to come up with any special or unique way to say happy birthday, and he certainly hadn't gotten the other boy a gift. Jean just hoped that he wouldn't mind. He was usually understanding, and it seemed unlikely for that to change now. Honestly, that was one of his favorite things about Armin. In a way the level to which he was easy going verged on being a pushover, but he knew that if he was mad at him then he would have stopped inviting him over. In a weird way, he felt flattered that of all the great people here, Jean was his choice for a friend. Someone he had only just met, and who was rude and far from social. It was something that kept popping into his mind. He really did think about him a lot. He wasn't exactly an expert on friends, but he didn't think that it was normal to be so caught up in affection for your best friend that it was hard to sleep. He hoped that he wasn't being too clingy. Of course walking over and showing up unexpectedly was pretty weird. Most people definitely didn't do that. Most people also weren't staying with a friend's mom and not the friend. His actions were justified. Or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself.

* * *

Unfortunately, it was pretty warm out, and very sunny. Normally those were weather conditions that he liked, but with all the walking he got very hot very fast, and he had to lose the shirt early on. Luckily the shirt hadn't ripped in the fall, but there were a few small drops of blood on it from where the thorns had cut his skin. Hopefully it wasn't going to stain. He had worn one of his old ones because he knew it would get sweaty, but he still hated to have bloodstains on a shirt. That would be a difficult thing to justify.

He was exhausted by the time he got to Armin's house. Somewhere along the way he had made a wrong turn, and realized his mistake only after almost an hour of going in the wrong direction. He assumed that it was around 7:00 now, since the sun was starting to set. He wondered if Denise had realized he was gone yet, and if she had, how long ago. He kind of felt bad about potentially worry about him, but it was too late to change anything now. He sure as hell wasn't going back. Not that he could, even if he wanted to. The muscle fatigue hadn't quite set in yet, but he could feel it coming, and he was practically falling asleep as he climbed the porch steps.

Jean knew that something was wrong about ten seconds after he rang the doorbell, when no one answered the door. A glance through one of the small garage windows confirmed his fears. The Arlerts must have gone out for dinner together as a family, because one of the two cars was gone.

Through some warped though process created by his tired brain, he decided that it would be completely unacceptable to be waiting on the porch. That much was accurate. Regardless of how understanding and forgiving Armin was, his parents would definitely think it was weird to find some teenager sweaty and exhausted (and probably asleep, judging by his current ability to keep his eyes open) on their porch. The lack of judgement came in the second half of his plan. Since he obviously wasn't going to go back to Marco's, he had to wait here somewhere.

For some reason, he decided that the best place to wait was outside his friend's bedroom window. He climbed the oak tree in the back yard, and from there he jumped to the roof, where there were three windows that came out like Marco's attic window did. It was sort of a precarious place to wait if he was going to be unconscious, but he sat up against his friend's window (he determined it was the correct one after peering inside0 and hoped he wouldn't slide down or forget where he was and lay down on his side and roll off the roof. Why did rain have to exist? The whole building of structures so rain could run off was really affecting his ability to sleep on people's roofs without falling. Still, as soon as he had finished seating himself comfortably, he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Jean awoke to his friend's muffled voice through the window. It was hard to tell what he said exactly, but it was probably something like "What the hell?" or possibly "Oh my god!" And then the window was opened, the frame hitting him on the back of the head when it slid up.

"Ouch." His exclamation of pain was halfhearted, despite the fact that it really did hurt. Both the smack of the window pane on the base of his skull, and his bare skin (including the scratches from the rose thorns) ripping away from the smooth glass. "Hey man, what's up? Did you have a good dinner?" He mumbled, tiredly. Coming here was definitely a bad idea. Maybe it would have been okay if they were home when he got here. Sleeping against a window? Not exactly polite. And putting his shirt back on might have been a good idea. Both because of the layer of skin now missing from his back, and because being half naked and waiting at the window of his best friend was a little uncomfortable. Especially considering that Armin got really uncomfortable about stuff like that, even if Jean didn't give a shit.

"Jean, what are you doing?! Why are you on my roof?!" His friend's voice was shrill and full of concern. There was a rustling of papers as he moved everything on his desk out of the way so he could climb inside. Jean turned around to do so, carefully so that he wouldn't scrape himself up on the rough surface of the shingles. Unsurprisingly the other boy looked shocked and worried about his being there.

He shrugged and climbed in. Hopefully his shoes being on the surface of the desk wouldn't be an issue. Armin didn't get upset about much of anything, but he was pushing his luck already with the whole coming in through the window thing. "Uh, I thought coming over would be a good idea, since tomorrow is your birthday and all. The being on the roof bit... Well, I'm impulsive and I make horrible decisions most of the time. It seemed like a good idea when I climbed up. Now the whole thing seems stupid, but like I kept thinking about you and I really wanted to see you. Plus, Marco is gone, so I couldn't exactly have him drive me." Jean explained. He tried to look anywhere but directly into the questioning blue eyes that were fixed so intently on him.

Armin bit his lip and let out a nervous snort. "You... You were thinking about me?"

Jean's gut twisted horribly, and he tried to keep his face from showing it. Those nervous jitters felt a hundred times worse now that he was so hungry. He hoped the other boy would remember to offer him food. "Well yeah Armin, you're my best friend. And your birthday is tomorrow. I didn't have the chance to get anything for you though, but I figured we could still hang out. It's been a while since you and I did anything by ourselves."

"Really? Your best friend?" He didn't really seem surprised or flattered. In fact, his voice was totally flat. One hand reached up to brush through his hair, and it left his blonde bangs standing up on end. Wasn't being someone's best friend supposed to be a good thing? Surely Jean wasn't _that_ bad at normal peer socialization. At least it shouldn't cause disappointment.

He decided to go easier on himself. Probably if his friend was disappointed it was more to do with his own personal issues. Usually the taller boy was good at reading people, but Armin wasn't like most of the other people he knew. His whole thought process was completely convoluted and depressing. He wasn't even sure he wanted to understand the way he thought. "Yeah, of course. You're one of the nicest people I know. You're really cool, ten out of ten on your personality. You know, if I was giving out personality ratings. Not that I am. Well, maybe I am. Either way you get a perfect score, so congratulations." Not exactly the smoothest compliment he had ever given, but at least he tried.

"Aw, you're sweet. And kind of out of it, I think. Were you sleeping out there? How long has it been since you ate something?" It was nice having a mother hen sort of friend who took care of you, and Armin was certainly that friend. The invalidating his compliment part pissed him off a little bit though. At least he could have left that part out.

"I think I had lunch at two? But why does that matter? I'm still serious, you're a fantastic person. The best I know." He insisted. Maybe it was a slight exaggeration, in all honesty he liked Marco just as well, but that wasn't important. Plus he liked Marco in a different way. It was more of what he thought was normal for a friendship, and less physically painful whenever he thought too hard about him. He still didn't really get that part. Maybe he was going to have a stroke too.

Armin let out a single laugh. "Right, sure I am. Let's get you some food though, that was a long walk. You really should refill on calories and stuff." As if to prove his point, Jean's stomach growled so loudly it was almost comical. "I have some leftover spaghetti and meatballs, do you want that?"

Like that was a question that even needed to be asked. At this point he would eat just about anything that was put in front of him. Spaghetti and meatballs sounded like heaven. "God, yes." He answered, emphatically. For now he was too distracted by the prospect of food to even bother arguing with his friend. Especially about something that he would choose not to believe no matter what he said. He was stubborn like that. If Jean said anything at all to indicate that he wasn't completely useless then he would try to argue. If he said he cared about him then he either got flustered, disappointed, or downright angry. It was hard to know what to do with him. He pulled his shirt from earlier o and followed him out the door.

"I guess you're pretty tired, huh? We can just go to bed after you eat if you want to. Save all the fun stuff for tomorrow." He suggested amiably, as they made their way down the stairs. "Maybe we can even get you some aloe vera. You've gotten a whole lot tanner just today, it might spare you some pain in the morning. Well, if you burn like I do, at least." Armin went to the fridge and retrieved a white Styrofoam container, which he emptied into a bowl and popped into the microwave.

Under the harsh kitchen lights, Jean noticed that some of the hair around his forehead was still sticking up from earlier. Without really thinking about it he reached out and brushed it back into it's normal position. In fact, he didn't realize that his actions were remotely out of place until he looked back to his friend's blue eyes, which looked like they were about to pop right out of their sockets. His whole body was completely frozen as he gaped up at the taller boy. "Right, aloe vera. sounds good. Sunburns are probably horrible. I don't actually know, I usually get tan and pain free actually, but thanks for the offer. I really do... Appreciate it." He grimaced. Clearly this wasn't going well, Armin was still staring at him like a deer in headlights. "I'm sorry, was that weird? That was definitely weird. Hell, coming here at all was weird. I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't_ that_ weird. Plus, I like having company. It's a really nice surprise, Jean, even if walking wasn't very well thought out." The other boy assured him, before the beeping of the microwave made him jump. He opened it quickly to stop the obnoxious sound, but the conversation was already lost. Stuff like that kept happening to them.

On top of that, Mr. Arlert walked into the room and froze, staring at Jean. "When did you get here?" He asked, completely dumbfounded. "You weren't at dinner. And I don't remember talking about you coming over either. Did you mention him coming over?" His gaze switched back to his son.

"Yeah he just got here a little while ago. I didn't even know he was coming until he got here, actually. I think it was a really nice idea for a surprise." He told him, as he picked up the bowl of spaghetti and put a fork in it. He handed the bowl to his friend with an exaggerated smile. It's not that his dad was going to send him home, but a teenager who he didn't know all that well showing up at his house without being invited was enough to make him a little disgruntled. It was reasonable.

He tilted his head to the side a little, his beady brown eyes watching Jean suspiciously. He was thin and short, and very physically similar to his son, but he had light brown hair that was going grey, and his whole face was just very different. He got most of his defining features from his mother. "It's nice that you have such thoughtful friends. I guess Denise drove him?"

Jean spoke up before his friend had a chance to. Even if Mr. Arlert wasn't mad, he was more judgmental than his wife, Claire. He would definitely think that he was stupid for walking all the way here. "Yeah, she thought I should call, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise. In hindsight, I should have done it anyway. It would have been more polite."

"Ah, you're fine. Next time a little warning would be nice though." He waved a hand. "I'll let you guys eat, I guess. Have a good night." As always, he wasn't exactly a social butterfly. He left without further comment and went upstairs to his bedroom. Hopefully they would watch a movie or something and go to bed. Anything that didn't bother them down here was fine with him. Not that he didn't like Armin's parents, but he didn't come over to see _them_.

With a nervous smile, Jean went to the table and sat down. "I get the feeling that he doesn't approve of me being around here all the time. Does he think I'm a bad influence or something?" He didn't really know Mr. Arlert all that well, so he wasn't sure if he was the type to say that kind of thing right out. Even if he wasn't, most parents at least dropped hints with varying levels of subtlety. He would probably know, either way.

"I don't know if he thinks you're a bad influence, he just doesn't want you to lose interest in me. You know, because I'm his fragile little child. Really, with the way he treats me you'd think he was one of those creepy overprotective dads and I was his daughter." He rolled his eyes. "But really, it isn't your fault. You could be the most perfect person who ever existed, and he still wouldn't trust you. Unlike Marco, you haven't been around for years, so moving on or moving away still seem pretty likely. Plus, you don't respect him enough to warn him that you're on your way. It might not influence me, but it does make you a hooligan."

"Wait, he thinks I'm going to lose interest in you? That's ridiculous!" He protested. Even if it wasn't Armin who thought it, Jean still felt angry. "Just because I'm tall and dashing does not mean I'm some stupid shallow jerk. And even if I was, I wouldn't have kept up an act for this long. I wouldn't walk over when it's sunny and humid and 80 degrees out. I don't even have a water bottle! That was one of the stupidest things I've ever done!" He had attempted to make a joke, but forgot halfway through. Now it just seemed like he was really self centered. Somehow, he didn't care about that though, which was weird for him because usually that was what he cared about most, what people thought of him. "I mean, you're the first real friend I've ever had. The first person whose house I've gone to more than just once or twice. You're a great person, and if he thinks I can't see that, then he's an idiot."

There were several seconds of silence between them. Jean sat, frowning, with a fork in his clenched fist. His friend stood across the table, completely at a loss for words. They made uncomfortable eye contact for several seconds before Armin cleared his throat. "You were being serious about that?" Thankfully, he didn't seem creeped out about it. Not that he should have been, but he would have understood if he was.

"Of course I was serious. I..." He stopped himself before he could continue. Did he really want to finish that thought? He wasn't sure he could pass it off if he decided not to. He wasn't sure what would happen if he did. And he was spending the night too, so there wasn't really an easy way out. As his mind was whirling, blue eyes looked at him expectantly. "I, uhh. I like you a lot." He finished weakly.

Judging by the frown and furrowed eyebrows, his statement was unsatisfactory. He knew that wasn't what he meant to say. "Thanks, Jean. I like you a lot too." He sounded little puzzled, although he didn't go as far as to ask him anything about it. Still you could practically feel the question nagging at him.

Jean did his very best to ignore him, and wolfed down the spaghetti without so much as glancing up. If only that was enough to block out the other boy's curiosity. No matter how hard he tried to ignore him, he could feel his eyes boring into him. After he decided there was no feasible excuse to be staring at the bottom of his empty bowl this long, he finally looked up. "Ugh, Armin..." He groaned, like his current distress was his fault. Well, it sort of was. "I mean that I _like_ you like you." he forced out. It was a juvenile way to say it, he knew that. In fact, he was completely mortified as soon as the words left him. Really, who said that? Third graders?

"Like like." The other boy's expression didn't change, although he was now staring at the floor instead of looking into his eyes. "Like like? Are you trying to trick me for some funny little birthday joke? Because it isn't funny. It really_ really_ isn't funny."

Shit. Shit shit shit. Saying it once had caused him enough overwhelming anxiety for one day. What exactly had made him feel like that was at sll okay to say? He couldn't even think it without mentally punching himself in the face. "No, I wouldn't joke about something like that. I'm not a total asshole. But you can just forget it actually because like you said I'm totally not credible right now. That sun and walking crap makes people delirious, right?" He laughed, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

"Wait, you seriously_ like_ me?"

Jean couldn't look him in the eye, even if he had wanted to. "Yeah. I mean I must, I'm always thinking about you, and I get all giddy when we're together. When you hugged me the other day I was so happy I thought I was going to explode. That's what liking someone is, right? Marco is great and all, and I love him as a friend, but it isn't the same thing. It's not even close." Right now he was feeling less like exploding from happiness and more like sinking into the floor and never returning.

"You think about me?" Even with his own horrified internal screaming, Armin's happy tone made his heart skip a beat. So he wasn't mad or disgusted. If anything he seemed jovial. That had to be a good sign, right?

"All the time, I can't focus on anything. But..." He hesitated. On one hand, he was getting increasingly anxious over the miscommunication that was continuing to go on. On the other hand, he didn't really want to ruin this. It was going so well. He decided he should just follow his impulses and go for it, consequences be damned. "I'm totally not gay because I still think a lot of girls are hot." He blurted out.

Complete silence. After a while he looked up to see why his friend wasn't speaking. Instead of the confusion or anger or anything else that he would have expected, the other boy was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly struggling not to laugh. "Bisexuality is a thing, dumbass. I didn't think you were totally gay even if you do like me. I've seen you check out girls before."

"Bisexuality?" Jean heard himself asking dumbly, although he didn't recall consciously deciding to question the word.

"Yeah, liking more than just one gender. It's totally normal. Lots of people are bi, Jean." He explained, as if this revalation wasn't a huge deal. Maybe it wasn't, for him, but for the first time ever he was't confused and upset by his sexuality. He could like Armin and think that Mikasa was hot at the same time and there was nothing wrong with him because of it. And as a bonus, apparently the other boy also wasn't one of those annoying people who thought noticing that someone was physically attractive was something you couldn't or shouldn't do when you actually liked someone on a much deeper level. Or at least that's what he gathered, since he had acknowledged that Jean checked out girls without asking why he would do that if he liked him.

He sighed. "So there's a third option then. That's... Wow. Everything makes so much more sense now." He picked up his bowl and carried it to the sink to rinse it, basically on autopilot now because his brain was working overtime trying to adjust to the fact that he wasn't royally fucked up for how he felt.

"I guess so. There's way more than three, but we can talk about those some other time. I think one extra is enough for one day." Armin followed him, looking pretty amused by the fact that his mind was blown by something that he clearly didn't think of as being revolutionary information. That was part of why Jean liked him so much he didn't get irritated with many things. Like right now he wasn't bothered by the fact that the guy who had just confessed to having feelings for him was more concerned with the definition of a word than he was with getting a response about whether he felt anything back. "Maybe you should hop in the shower to get all that sweat off while you think about it, okay?"

Jean nodded silently, and handed over the now rinsed bowl to Armin, who preferred loading things into the dishwasher himself because he had a "system" and he would mess it up. He already knew where the towels were, so he got one himself. He also grabbed his pajamas, because his friend didn't like people changing in front of him and also because being naked in front of him was kind of different now that he had confessed to liking him. While he had cooled down considerably from his walk, he still wasn't feeling the desire for a hot shower. Instead he let lukewarm water run over him, and fought the urge to just curl up on the floor of the shower and go to sleep. He made an effort to really scrub himself off, and used plenty of soap to rid himself of the stink of sweat, which he was all to aware was clinging to him. Now that he was thinking about it, he was ashamed of himself for confessing a crush in such a state. Sure, it was expectable that he wouldn't be fresh as a daisy under the circumstances, but he could have at least waited until after the shower. He dried himself off and changed into the clothes that he had brought with him. He hadn't picked his old basketball shorts and a t-shirt for the purpose of staying cool, but it did have the bonus effect of doing so.

He hung up the towel and checked the medicine cabinet for the spare toothbrush that had been deemed his. Lucky for him, it was. He brushed his teeth and headed to Armin's room, too tired to make conversation before collapsing onto the wonderfully soft bed.

"You ready to go to sleep?" Armin asked from his desk, where he was doing something on his laptop.

Jean didn't look up. "Mhm." He confirmed, sleepily. He heard the blonde standing and going over to his bed, where he sat down silently. He wondered what he was doing until he felt a hand resting tentatively on his back. He still didn't react.

"Are you bleeding? What happened to your back?" The first question clearly wasn't a question at all, but rather an observation that he was bleeding. The shower must have rinsed away the fresh scabs, and now the blood was visible as the couple of droplets soaked into his white shirt.

A question that required an actual answer. "I went out the window and fell in the rosebushes. They're tiny cuts, no big deal." He answered sleepily, still not opening his eyes or making any effort to look at the other boy. He just wanted to be able to go to sleep, any further conversation was a nuisance. Hopefully that was a good enough explanation.

"You're such a idiot." Armin told him, fondly. Since he could hear in his voice that he was smiling, Jean decided not to take it personally. "Now get up, I need one of these blankets if I'm sleeping on the floor."

"Shh, I'm not moving. Just sleep up here." He squinched his eyes further shut in his irritation.

"But-"

"No, you have a queen sized bed and it's big enough for both of us. I swear to god if you keep talking to me and keeping me from going to sleep, I will walk all the way back to Marco's. Now get on this dumb bed and go the fuck to sleep or so help me I will ground you for a month." He opened his eyes to glare at the other boy, and did not look away until the other boy turned off the lights and climbed under the covers. After he shut his eyes again, he fell asleep almost immediately, only having the time to think in his half conscious state that Armin had no right to complain because it wasn't even gay since only one of them was under the covers.

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**Jean is a big idiot and I love him and also Armin obviously likes him back, but we'll confirm that in the next chapter. As always, don't forget to review. I was overjoyed with the feedback from last time, and would appreciate similar thoughts, ideas, and opinions this time! To Craen, I couldn't agree more, and we will se a more emotional side of Mikasa in the next chapter. It didn't happen this time for obvious reasons, but your input has been noted! Ps, if anyone wants to beta this for spelling errors and all that good stuff, please let me know because I would really appreciate it.**


	13. Panic and Pancakes

When Jean woke up, there was sunshine painting the insides of his eyelids scarlet. He opened his eyes groggily and looked around. Above him was Armin's blank ceiling. It was even more familiar than all the draping fabric in Marco's attic. He was still laying on Armin's bed, or at least he kind of was. At some point in the night he had managed to get himself in such a position that both of his legs were off the bed. He wasn't really sure how he had stayed on the bed like that. After he had reoriented himself a little, he looked up toward the head of the bed. His blonde friend wasn't there.

Suddenly, alarm gripped him. They had talked a lot the night before, about certain subjects that might have made him uncomfortable. What if he just left? It didn't seem like something he would do, but that didn't mean anything. People did unexpected things all the time. Like confessing to their best friend that they had a crush on them.

God that was a stupid thing to do. What would happen now? Either Armin liked him back, or he didn't. Honestly, he wasn't sure which one he would prefer. If he didn't feel the same, then things would almost definitely get awkward. At best, they might agree to ignore the whole thing and pretend it never happened. But what if he did feel the same way? What then? Jean could barely handle admitting that he had a crush on another guy, he wasn't sure what he would do if it was reciprocated. It would be nice in a way, because he wouldn't feel rejected, but he wasn't sure if he could really date Armin. It wouldn't be fair to him. He deserved a guy who would be proud to be seen with him. Someone who was totally devoted to him. He deserved someone better than him.

Even if they did start dating, what would happen when his dad woke up. As much as he liked to think of himself as his own independent person, he knew that he always withered at his dad's disapproval. And finding out his son had gotten a boyfriend while he had been unconscious would be way worse than disapproval. It would be anger. It would be betrayal. He knew he couldn't handle that. He was too weak.

After a minute or so of just lying there and spacing off into the direction of where Armin had been last night, Jean finally sat up. A quick glance confirmed what he had already assumed, that his friend had left him alone to sleep. Of course, he wasn't sure what that meant. He was looking for signals in everything, and even though that was probably completely meaningless, he was still turning it over looking for any hint of what the other boy felt towards him. It was absurd, quite frankly. But knowing something was absurd and being able to stop doing it were two different things. So instead of resolving his inner turmoil and going downstairs to start the day with confidence, he tried to bring his thoughts down to a quiet stewing, and got out of bed feeling about as helpless as he ever had.

He spent longer than normal in the bathroom. Normally he didn't care what he looked like in the morning, but today he was more self conscious than normal. Unfortunately, going to bed with wet hair had done nothing to help him look nice and well-groomed. It took water and a comb to finally get it to lay in a way that he was satisfied didn't look like he had made a toupee out of a hedgehog, and then he still had to brush his teeth and wash his face. Finally he was done and ready to go downstairs to find Armin and get some breakfast.

At the bottom of the stairs, his friend's cat was watching him with his suspicious green eyes. He liked Jean pretty well, from what he could tell, but even when he was purring and nuzzling up to him he always watched him with a distrustful look. Still, he jumped up into his arms without hesitation and climbed up to sit precariously on his shoulder, as he liked to do. It was a nuisance, but as much as he didn't like it, it was also sort of endearing. He'd never had any kind of pet before, so being liked by someone else's felt like some special badge of honor. He was the cool different guest guy. The fun cat uncle, sort of.

Of course, there was always a downside. Like how he couldn't see around the corner, and ran straight into a certain short blond friend. That of course, made the cat jump off. He ran off down the hallway in the blink of an eye. The force knocked Armin onto his butt before Jean even could try to catch him. Instead he had to settle for reaching out a hand to help him up. "I'm so sorry." He stammered. This was the worst way he possibly could have first seen him. He had been hoping for some degree of smoothness. Maybe being able to look handsome and confident while he got a bowl of cereal or something like him over had been so far into his 'don't do' category that he hadn't even bothered to consider it as a possibility.

Because of his haste to get the other boy up onto his feet, he overestimated the force that he would need to pull him up. Amin ended up running smack into his chest, and Jean wrapped his free arm around his friend's waist to stop him from falling back again. It was more contact than they were used to. For the most part, they both edged around anything more than the slightest brush against one another. Now here they were, with the front of their bodies against each other. He wasn't quite sure what to do in this situation, and he ended up freezing. He just stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. After a moment that could only have lasted a second or two, Armin put his hand flat on his chest and pushed him away, gently.

"Good morning, Jean." He greeted him. His voice was high pitched and his cheeks were red, both obvious signs of how flustered he was from what just happened. He couldn't even make eye contact. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I slept in. I meant to be there to wish you a happy birthday when you woke up." He apologized. Again, he was thankful that he didn't have the same pale complexion as his friend. Even though deep down he knew he was just as nervous as the other boy, he also knew that it was not as obvious. Being able to tell how he was feeling would require a more intimate knowledge of the way that he normally talked and moved, and the effort of actually paying attention. Someone who was too distracted by how he was feeling to look up could never have seen it. He might as well be just as suave and confident as he usually was. Not that he was usually suave or confident, but right now he might as well be.

"That's okay. I uh..." He glanced up to briefly make eye contact and raised his eyebrows hopefully. "I made you some extra pancakes. For breakfast."

"Thanks Armin, you're the best." He lost some of the false confidence he was so proud of as he sheepishly thanked his friend. He really hadn't expected to be getting a specially made breakfast. After all, wasn't the person having the birthday supposed to be the one receiving a special breakfast? That would make more sense. He wished he had thought to come down and make breakfast for the both of them instead. Then again, he wouldn't have been comfortable cooking alone in someone else's kitchen, so it was just as well that he hadn't.

He followed his friend to the kitchen, where they talked awkwardly to one another while they heated the pancakes back up. They had lost something last night. Whatever that thing was that made talking between friends easy had gone away. Today they were almost as uncomfortable as the first time that he had been there. Almost, but not quite. They didn't hate each other now, at least. And there wasn't anything quite so serious hanging between them now. Still, both boys were uncomfortable. Jean wasn't sure how fast he should be eating. It was one of those stupid things that shouldn't matter, but it was also absorbing all of his attention. Armin wasn't much better. He didn't want to draw attention to it, but he noticed that the other boy was fidgeting uncomfortably.

He finished his food, perhaps a little too quickly, and took his plate to the sink to rinse off before he put it in the dishwasher. No matter how many times his friend told him that it was unnecessary, he couldn't help not believing him. Especially with something like syrup. He just _knew_ that it would get stuck. That was what syrup did, after all.

"You know, you still don't have to do that." He heard the call from the table and grinned. That was more like it. It wasn't a definite change, but it was a little bit.

"Syrup is sticky, Armin. I might be saving you some trouble later." He laughed, as he stuck his plate in on he bottom rack. He enjoyed the lighter atmosphere for a moment, but as the silence between them grew longer, it faded. They were back to being tense. He sighed and chewed on his lip for a minute before he finally spoke. "Look, Armin, about last night..." He trailed off for a moment, unsure how to say what he wanted to. "I don't want to make things weird here. I really don't. If you don't feel the same way, I totally get it, and we can just pretend none of it ever happened. It's no-"

"Jean, stop." He wasn't particularly loud or firm, but his words still stopped Jean dead. Another several seconds passed, and Jean realized that he was holding his breath without meaning to. Even upon noticing this, he was too afraid of breaking the perfect silence to let it out. "I'm sorry for acting like this. Its not that I'm upset or anything, I'm just not sure what to do. I didn't really think that this would happen. Like, ever." His explanation for his behavior actually did nothing to explain what was going on with him, and it didn't address any of the questions that had been plaguing him since he woke up.

Instead of waiting for more, he guessed that it had caught him off guard in a bad way. "I know, and I'm sorry. It was stupid. I mean' you didn't ask me or anything, so I should have just left it alone."

"No, Jean, It's okay. That isn't what I was saying. I just didn't expect it is all."

He wanted to be patient, but the uncertainty was driving him up the wall. "What are you saying then, Armin. I don't get it."

"Jean..." He sighed loudly and looked at the ceiling, unable to make eye contact. "I like you too."

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**Surprise! I didn't forget about this. I just put it off for like 5ever. I would promise that I'd update sooner next time, but let's be real, I'm a terrible person and I might not. I hope you like it, and I also hope I don't leave this for so long that the cliffhanger stops being suspenseful. Sorry again. So please review because reviews are the best, even if you're just as guest, I love it.**


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